


Monsters

by snowspriestess



Series: AUs [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Car Sex, Character Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Jealousy, Mild Smut, Minor Character Death, Prophecy, Prophetic Visions, Slow Burn, Smut, TW: Blood, Tarot, Visions, tags will be updates as story continues, tw: death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2018-11-05 13:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 110,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11014737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowspriestess/pseuds/snowspriestess
Summary: Kingslanding is a divided city. After the death of vampire king Robert Baratheon, vampires have been fighting each other as well as the werewolfs of the city. Stannis Baratheon, brother of the late king, and Cersei Lannister, Robert's wife, as well as her family all struggle to gain control over the now empty throne. But after an alliance between the two vampire parties fails, Stannis begins looking to the werewolf clan of the Starks for aid, using a marriage to pull them to his side.Who will win the throne in the end? And how will the marriage between werewolf Jon and vampire Melisandre work out? Will they conquer evil, or fall victims to Stannis' plan eventually?





	1. Prologue/Exordium

**Author's Note:**

> this story is basically a re-telling of asoiaf but with less plots, characters and a few changes overall. and of course there are vampires and werewolfs! the main ship will be jon x melisandre, but there are other minor ships which will of course be tagged.

The room was dim, bleak, only illuminated by the candles on the walls. The windows were shut, dusk was dancing in the thick air. The furniture was sparse, no more than a huge table in the middle of the huge room and a few chairs around it. They were of dark wood, patterns running over them and matching the thick wood planks of the floor. It was very cold, almost as if there was no life left in the hall. Spider webs covered the dark walls and shut windows, but the spiders were long gone.

Nothing but the dead webs were left, an abandoned place, haunted by shadows which moved behind closed doors at night, illuminated by moonlight. Candles were seen burning in the windows, rumors rose about the house being haunted by ghosts.

Humans came and examined the empty hallways, the huge bedrooms, the broken mirrors in the great hall. They laughed at the cracking of wood under their feet, at the noises others believed to hear. In the end, they left the house without a clue. Without believing in fairytales or horror stories.

But today, the house was occupied. The room was filled with figures, sitting on the chairs like they were made of stone. Pale skin shimmered in the dim light, shadows danced across red eyes. Scarlet liquid gleamed in the cups on the table, white lips opened to drink.

There was not a sound audible, not a single breath. The air seemed to be utterly still, motionless. No chest was rising under the deep black coats.

There were six of them, in total. A man sat on the head of the table, hair as white as his skin. His expression was set in stone, frozen in ice. His lips only parted for drinking, the liquid left a distant red stain on the paleness of his mouth.

It was quiet for a long time, before he rose his voice to speak. “You all know why we are here.” It was neither a question nor was an answer expected, but the others nodded in response.

“The danger is coming closer”, the women to his right had spoken. Her red eyes gleamed in the candlelight, as she took a sip from her cup. Golden curls framed her face, but her expression was stern and determined. She looked over to the man sitting next to her, hair as golden as her own. He nodded silently.

“The stark clan is growing bigger, they might soon ally with the other clans”, the first man had the word again, eyes now set on the dark haired man sitting across from him. “We want a Lannister-Baratheon alliance.”

The other remained silent for a moment, exchanging a look with the man to his right and the woman to his left. She smiled a little, dark red lips curling up slightly. She was the only one clothed not black but red, her hair shimmering in the same scarlet as her eyes.

“Only one person can sit on the throne”, the man answered some time, glance never leaving the white haired one. “I won’t give you the throne, Tywin.” The woman to his right smiled, long red nails starting to tap on the table. It was the only sound in the room.

“ _Giving_ me the throne would imply that you have it at the moment, Stannis. But you don’t, if I am informed correctly.” Tywin smiled, turning the cup in his fingers.

Stannis eyes seemed to darken at the words. “You don’t have it either. The throne is unoccupied. But that will change soon, as I am planning to claim it.”

The blonde woman laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You are going to claim it? Good luck with that, Baratheon. The throne is ours.”

“An alliance is your last change. Don’t be stupid”, Tywin added, exchanging a look with the blonde. “You cannot fight us and win.”

There was an uncomfortable silence following the words, as no one felt the need to say anything more. It lasted a few minutes, until Stannis stood up from his chair. “No”, he answered, expression frozen and stern.

The man and woman to his sides rose as well, the woman taking a last sip from her cup. “Thanks for the drink”, she smiled, before turning around and leaving the room, followed by the other two.

The Lannisters remained. The room was silent as a crypt. Finally, the woman rose her voice again. “So we take care of the Starks on our own?”

Tywin pretended to not have heard her question, eyes fixed on the cup in his hands.

She waited a few moments for an answer, then she nodded and rose from the chair. “That’s it for today, it seems. I’m leaving.”

Her footsteps echoed from the high walls for a few seconds, then it was very silent once again.


	2. Consanguinity

The moon stood high and full in the sky, illuminating the darkness of the night. Not a single cloud was too be seen, the air was still and motionless and the starts gleamed on the black horizon.

There was no sound to be heard as she moved through the alleys, swift and silent like a ghost. Her white skin flashed in the moonlight, red silk flew around her body. Copper curls danced around her as she disappeared and reappeared in the shadows, darkness covering her like a second skin.

She heard the beating of the man’s heart long before the footsteps, long before he came around the corner and entered the dim alley in which she was hiding. The blood pumped through his body, his pulse was slow and regular. He was listening to music, quiet sound of a pop song filling the silent air. The earphones were tucked under his baseball cap, the white fabric reflecting the dim light.

He did not hear her as she followed him in the shadows, hidden in the darkness. Her heels made no noise on the pathway as she got closer, now almost behind him. She could hear him breathing already.

Suddenly, there was another sound filling the night. Another heartbeat, footsteps, heavy breathing. Within a heartbeat she was back in the shadows, hiding. The man turned around, untrained eyes traveling through the darkness. He was blind, of course. He could never dare to see her.

She remained utterly still, listening to the second heart. It was coming closer, from the opposite direction. The man had begun to walk already and was nearly out of sight, but she would have to let him go. She could not risk to be seen.

There were still footsteps coming closer, but they sounded different than human steps. Her eyes searched the night in front of her, the emptiness of the street. Somebody, _or something_ , was coming.

A figure emerged from the dusk of the night, red eyes gleaming in the darkness. White fur shimmered almost silver in the moonlight, heavy breathing filled the silence. She pressed her back against the wall of the alleyway, glance fixed on the wolf approaching her. She was not certain if he could see her, but he was certainly looking in her direction. A deep growl emerged from his throat, long white teeth flashed like a blade. A warning for sure.

She was convinced that she could take him, if he were alone, but wolfs hunted in groups and if her master had taught her one thing then to never underestimate a werewolf. And so she remained in the shadows, one pair of red eyes meeting another, until finally the wolf turned around and left. His body disappeared in the dusk and for another minute she listened to his heartbeat slowly getting more quietly, before it became quiet eventually.

 

-

 

“Do you not think you are a bit overdressed?” Stannis’ voice was cool and distant, as he entered her chambers without a sound. He was clothed in a dark suit himself, face pale and frozen.

She smiled, stepping away from the mirror. “What use is a party if you don’t get to wear a fancy dress?” The deep red of the silk dress matched her eyes and curls perfectly, her white skin seemed to gleam in the candlelight. Her lips were heavily covered in lipstick, lashes thick with mascara. She wore a pair of seven inch heels, the floor silently cracking under every step she took, every time the little stiletto heel touched the wood.

“It is not a party we are attending, Melisandre”, he corrected her, eyes secretly traveling over her body. “It’s a meeting.”

Her fingers played with the ruby collier around her neck. “And what exactly would be the difference between a party and a meeting?” She slid closer to him, but maintaining a certain distance at which she stopped.

Stannis frowned slightly at the sudden lack of space between them. “We are meeting the Stark clan, you know that.” His red eyes seemed a little troubled for a moment.

“What I don’t know is why we are meeting them”, Melisandre replied, fingers still twisting the ruby.

Stannis’ eyes were fixed on the stone, before he convinced himself to look at her again. “I am proposing an alliance. The Lannisters want my throne, but with the wolfs’ help I can defeat them.”

She nodded slowly, releasing the collier from her grip. Instead she moved closer to Stannis, arms wrapping around his body. “I don’t think they will be willing to ally with us, my king.” The words were soft, soothing, almost like she was talking to a child. Her skin seemed to burn on his, as if she was trying to thaw this frozen skin.

He despised that. Quickly he moved back, away from her hands.

She frowned at the reaction, but remained still. “I have not meant to offend you.” It was not a sincere apology, he knew that, and she was aware, but didn’t mind much.

 _Perhaps he had been too careless about her training._ Maybe she was too wild still. Maybe she needed time. _Time he did not have._ “I need you to do something for me tonight, my dear.” He tried to make his voice sound gentle. She could not fail him now. Not after he had invested so much precious time and work in her.

Melisandre answered the words with a smile. “Whatever I can do.”

“Good girl”, he replied, smiling to himself. “I am planning a marriage proposal.”

The words caused her to frown. “I don’t understand, my king.” Her red eyes searched his own, but his were entirely empty. The affection that had once been there had left a long time ago, leaving only the dim scarlet shimmer of blood.

“I am going to marry you to one of the Stark boys.” He watched her eyes widen slightly, fingers once again twisting the ruby on her chest. She seemed sincerely shocked, as there was quite a long silence following his announcement.

Finally, she regained her voice. “Robb Stark is married already.” It was the weak try of gasping for air, of trying not to drown in the dark sea of news she had just gotten.

“I was not talking about Robb Stark.” His voice was more harsh than intended, but her answer had been everything but a smart one. Of course the eldest Stark was married, but that had nothing to do with the situation.

Melisandre bit her lips, teeth sinking into the soft skin and leaving red lipstick stains which looked like blood. “Brandon Stark is a child, am I supposed to be with him?” She was more offended now, close to losing her temper. In a fight she could not take Stannis, but a flight was perhaps not so impossible.

“No”, he answered, as calm as possible. His eyes never left her. “It was Jon I thought of giving you to. On the streets they call him the white wolf. You might have seen him, he is out a lot.”

The image of the white wolf with the red eyes crossed her mind immediately, causing her to swallow. There was another moment of complete silence. Finally she broke it. “They will never agree.”

Stannis smiled a reassuring smile. “Oh, they will. Look at you. They would be fools not to.”

She felt something like tears rising to her eyes, but fought them back. He would punish her if she was weak enough to cry now and ruin the make up. “I thought you cared about me.” She had not meant to say it, but the words had left her mouth too quickly.

His fingers traveled over her cheek for a second. “Oh, my dear, I do. But you are my most effective weapon.” He moved closer, their faces only a few inches apart. “You will marry the Stark boy and you will make him very happy. You will become a part of his family and win his trust. And then you will come to see me every new moon and tell me about your findings. Is that understood?”

“Why?” she wanted to know, moving backwards slightly. “Why do you want to know?”

Stannis shrugged. “Let that be my problem, dear.”

She nodded silently. “What if they find out?”

“They will not. Wolfs are incredibly weak on new moons, since the moon has no power then. They will not even notice you are gone. Just come to this house at midnight.” He watched contently as she nodded, although there was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

 

-

 

Stark mansion was huge and much too brightly illuminated for a Vampire’s taste. Electric lights, no blinds on the windows, no candles. Even though it was shortly before midnight, the house glowed as if it was midday. There were three floors and a basement, the walls were high and painted white, the furniture new and modern. Melisandre’s eyes traveled through the room in awe, even though the electric thing was not pleasant it was a much welcomed change from the darkness she was used to.

The Starks awaited them in the living room, seated around a huge table. Eddard Stark was the eldest, hair gray and age already visible in his face. His wife Caitlin was a human, her hair was of a reddish brown and her eyes shimmered greenish, but her expression was just as stern as her husband’s. Melisandre had heard her heartbeat from a mile ago, slow and even and now she was even aware of the blood pumping through the woman’s veins. It took a lot of self control to ignore it if she was honest, although the wolves’ heartbeats were audible too. Melisandre could smell a human’s blood from several hundred meters away and that did not exactly make being in the same room as the Stark woman any easier.

The two daughters of the family were not there, they were not in the house either. Perhaps the matter was too dangerous for them. The eldest son Robb said right to his father, the green eyes never leaving Stannis. He was young but already a good leader, controlling most the wolves in the whole city. The two smaller boys said next to him, whispering quietly and not paying any attention to the Vampires at all.

Jon however, the one she was supposed to marry, had his eyes on her ever since she had entered the room. He tried to hide it, looking away every time she turned in his direction, but she could feel it. That was a good start, probably. He seemed interested already. Intrigued, at least.

Finally, Stannis opened the conversation. “Good evening, gentlemen.” He smiled friendly, but the smile did not reach his eyes. It never did. “And lady, of course”, he added, eyes on Catelyn for a moment. A second too long perhaps, since Eddard Stark shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Stannis ignored that, although he had most probably noticed as well. “I’m assuming you know who we are.”

“Of course we do”, Robb Stark answered, arms crossed in front of his chest. “What we do not know is what you want.” He did not seem to care much for staying friendly, as he made no effort to hide the rudeness of his words.

Stannis smiled, a little to arrogant maybe. “We came with the proposal of an alliance between our families.”

Eddard Stark frowned slightly at the words. “An alliance?” he repeated, getting up from his chair.

“Why would we want an alliance with you?” Robb wanted to know, but his father made a quick gesture in his direction and he fell silent.

Stannis ignored the question. “The Lannisters are trying to claim the throne of our world, stealing it from my brother.”

Robb led out a little laugh. “Your brother is dead. And Cersei Lannister his wife. The throne is hers by right.”

Red eyes met green ones, as the room became very silent for a moment. Stannis’ face showed no sign of emotion, but behind the cold mask he was angry, Melisandre knew that. His voice, however, was just as frozen as his expression. “Cersei Lannister is a cold hearted monster, you all know that. Let her claim the throne and the world will fall. She does not care for keeping our existence a secret. There will be a war between our world and the human one and we will be the ones losing in the end. We are no longer fit to resist them, there are to few of us and their technology is too advanced. They could destroy us, if they knew of us.”

The young wolf nodded slightly. “She is still the Queen. Resisting her would be treason.” He exchanged a quick look with his father. “But… what are you offering? What terms?”

“Safety for your family, your clan, every wolf in this city”, Stannis answered, a content smile on his lips. “A joining of our forces to fight the Lannisters. And a marriage.”

For the first time in the conversation, Jon’s eyes drifted from Melisandre over to Stannis.

Eddard Stark frowned. “A marriage?”

Stannis nodded. “A joining of families would only be fitting. And you have one son left who is old enough to marry.” He made a vague gesture in Jon’s direction, who exchanged a quick look with his father. There was only silence, for a few seconds.

Melisandre felt the need to say something, as she was slightly insulted by the lack of reaction. “Oh come on, I’m not such a bad match.” Stannis shot her an angry look that was supposed to make her shut up, but she only smiled teasingly in Jon’s direction. “I promise I won’t bite.”

“That’s enough”, Stannis growled in her direction, but Jon did grin a little at the words.

Eddard Stark still did not seem too convinced.

Stannis grinned his teeth, red eyes glowing with fury. He would be so angry with her later.

Finally, the eldest Stark broke the silence. “Alright. The terms are accepted.”

Melisandre smiled at the words, proud of herself.

She looked over to Stannis who seemed a lot happier than before, as he went over to Eddard and they shook hands. “You won’t regret this”, he promised, the wolf nodded.

“I hope I won’t.” He frowned a little. “When will the wedding take place?”

Jon’s eyes met Melisandre’s for a second, but he turned away quickly before anyone could notice. He was shy, obviously, but that was no problem. She was confident enough for the both of them, she could handle that.

“Soon”, Stannis replied now. “I was thinking this weekend.”

Eddard nodded. “Of course, the sooner the better.” His eyes still seemed a little troubled, but he did his best to smile. “We have a deal, then.”

 


	3. Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"The night is dark and full of terrors._   
>  _Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through this black vale, we can draw strength from one another."_

Melisandre stood in front of the mirror, eyes fixed on herself. It was an old myth created by humans that vampires could not see their own reflection, same as the story about them being afraid of garlic. Humans had always been fascinated by vampires, and over the years a lot of them had tried to grasp the essence of being supernatural, not human. Better than others. _Stronger._

Quite many authors had actually been right in their assumptions like super speed, super strength or of course the drinking of blood. Or the part with the red eyes, famously introduced by “Twilight”, a film Melisandre herself had been very fond of. Perhaps she was a romantic after all.

She frowned a bit at herself at the thought of it. The thing with Stannis, that had not been romantic at all. Her wedding today wasn’t either. Her life did not have much romance, if she was honest. Maybe even none at all. Killing people for survival wasn’t romantic and it was surely not a decent thing to do. Sleeping with Stannis to gain power was selfish and stupid, especially because it had not been working anyway. Her feelings had gotten in the way, she had become attached and now she was hurt because he was giving her away. Selling her, like she was some common good he had bought at a market. Before she had been turned, she had been good at turning men’s heads around. She had been irresistible. She still was, of course, but the men around her seemed to have lost interest.

Her husband, though, he had seemed kind of interested. Fascinated, even. He had probably never hooked up with a vampire before, perhaps he liked the challenge. She wondered what the night of the wedding would be like. Maybe he was still a virgin? She liked the thought of that.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. “Dear, are you done?” Stannis entered the room without waiting for an answer, something he always did. She was not even sure why he bothered to knock at all. His eyes traveled down her body, already wearing the wedding dress. “You look perfect”, he stated, obviously happy with himself.

Melisandre looked down at herself. The dress was beautiful, with a huge skirt of red and black fabric and a lacy top which only covered the most important parts. Her whole back was exposed, the cleavage ran down to her stomach and her breasts were covered by only the thinnest layer of red lace. The colors perfectly matched her eyes and hair, which was curled and braided into a crown like bun at the top of her head. Even the lipstick was the exact same shade of red. Stannis was right, she did indeed look perfect. If her husband could resist this, he was either blind or stupid. “Thank you”, she answered with a confident smile, trying to not let the real feelings for Stannis get in the way. She hated him, oh yes she did. Or maybe she loved him, still. _She was so stupid._ It was a bit of both, probably.

He came a little closer, one hand resting on her waist, the other placed under her chin. Slightly, he lifted her head. “You remember our deal, don’t you? Every new moon, you come here and tell me what you found.”

“Of course I do”, she nodded, still wondering why that would be necessary. They had an alliance, why would he need to spy on the wolves? But she did not question it, of course not, because she had learned to do better than that. Stannis did not like questions and he did not like giving answers either, so she had learned to keep quiet and get answers some other way. Normally she had tried seduction, but that was off the table now since she was going to be married in a few hours, so she would have to think of an alternative.

Stannis’ hand started to make his way down her neck, traveling softly over her collarbone. _Perhaps seduction was not completely off the table yet._

Melisandre moved closer, until their bodies were touching. Her arms curled around his neck, lips only inches apart. She breathed against his skin, watching as he inhaled the smell of her perfume. “Why are you giving me away?” she whispered, fingers playing with the ends of his hair, nails softly scrapping along his neck. “We had so much fun together, don’t you remember?” Her eyes never left his, she could feel that she had him exactly where she wanted. Normally, at this point, he would tell her what she wanted to know.

Stannis smiled a bit. “Oh, I do remember. And I would much rather keep you here, but I’m afraid this is the only way.”

“Why?” she breathed, one hand stroking along the line of his jaw. “Why do we need an alliance with the wolves?”

He shook his head. “My dear, you don’t understand how politics work.” He closed the distance between their lips, kissing her for a moment.

She tried to hold onto it, onto _him_ , but he withdraw after just a second. “Then explain it to me”, she whispered, hands still on his neck. “Please”, she added, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Stannis laughed a bit, slightly drawing back from her touch. “There’s nothing you need to know apart from what I told you.”

Melisandre pouted, approaching him again. She was not ready to give up so soon. “Will you not miss me?” she asked, biting her lip. “Will you not miss this?” She kissed him again, more passionately this time. She was not yet ready to let this go. She was good at playing a role, would probably be good at playing the role at wife too, but she still did not want to leave. Marrying sounded exciting, yes, but she was still afraid. Afraid of what might come. If she was honest, she had not been afraid for quite some time.

Stannis ended the kiss finally, pushing her away a little more than the first time. His hands remained at her waist, however. “My dear, I will miss this and you greatly, but like I said, there is no other way. I need someone inside the Stark clan and a marriage proposal is the only way to provide that.”

 _Someone inside the Stark clan,_ interesting. It was not about an alliance, after all. She was only supposed to be the spy. “I understand”, she answered, smiling contently. She had gotten the answers that she wanted. “When do we have to leave?” she wanted to know, turning back to the mirror to check on her appearance.

“Now, I assume”, Stannis replied, finally withdrawing completely and taking a few steps back. “I do not have to tell you how important it is to gain their trust, do I? They have to trust you, otherwise you will not have access to important information. So, use your skills.” He smiled a little. “You have quite many.”

Melisandre turned away from the mirror. “They will love me.”

“I am sure they will, my dear.” He held the door open for her, the huge dress rustled quietly as she began to walk.

In a few hours, she would be married. And she was still not sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

 

-

 

The wedding was supposed to take place at midnight, but they assembled behind Stark manor at half past eleven. The sky was dark blue and utterly clear, no cloud in sign to disturb the sparkling of the stars. It was a full moon too, spending just enough light for the ceremony.

Cool winds were rising and Melisandre could see her future husband shiver a bit. She could not remember the last time she had actually been cold. Her eyes rested on him for a moment, watched the rise and fall of his chest and listened to his heartbeat. She could not remember having to breath either, the way it felt when you were in desperate need of air. The way your heart quickened when you were happy or excited or _in love_. If she was honest, she could not recall any human emotion anymore. Her human life had become blurred and confusing over the years, huge gaps of missing time and things that did no longer add up. She could not even remember for how long she had been a Vampire or how she had been turned. Stannis most probably knew, but whenever she had asked he had turned her down with a simple “The past is the past, dear”.

The ceremony started and she was ripped away from her thoughts, as Stannis took her arm and accompanied her over to the priest who was waiting for them. She had not expected one, if she was honest, but the Starks had insisted to have one so they had agreed. He was a werewolf himself from the looks of it, but she did not mind much. She had to get used to them, whether she wanted or not.

Jon seemed a lot more nervous than she was herself, as he approached her shyly and stopped next to her, still a lot of space left between them. She had caught him staring at her before, examining the naked skin of her back and shoulders, but now he was not even looking in her direction.

She was disappointed, slightly. She had expected a more… excited reaction. _Did he not like the dress?_ How could he not like her in it, she looked like a goddess! Uncertainly, she looked down on herself, checking the dress. It was perfect, truly. It fitted her perfectly and the moon made her pale skin glow, making the colors of the dress look even better than before. He was certainly blind if he did not like it!

The priest started his talk and she was forced to listen, even if she could not imagine anything more boring. At first, his talk was the typical monologue that the people always said on TV, the one about love and trust and whatever else there had to be in a marriage. Melisandre tried to pay attention, but his voice was so monotone and if she weren’t a vampire who never needed sleep, she would have most probably fallen asleep on the spot. The stupid “I do” part was left out though, perhaps because Stannis did not want to offer her a last way out. She did not mind that, although she had to say that Jon certainly looked the way as if he wanted out.

It seemed to take centuries until he was finished talking and finally concluded his speech. There was a moment of silence before he spoke the final words. Somewhere, a raven was screaming. “The night is dark and full of terrors”, the priest continued. “Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through this black vale, we can draw strength from one another.” Jon looked at her for a moment and their eyes met, but he turned away quickly. The priest smiled, taking Melisandre’s left and Jon’s right hand and joined them. She was surprised how warm his skin felt. She could feel his pulse and the blood pumping through his veins.

“Two come forth today to join their lives so they may face this world’s darkness together.” Jon took the rings out of his pocket, opening the little box and taking the first one out. He escaped her eyes the whole time he put it on her finger, his own ones slightly shaking. Melisandre was quicker and less insecure, she began to like the feeling of his skin. It felt human, somehow. A lot more real than her own.

“I propose you husband and wife.” The families quietly cheered as they turned around and Melisandre did her best to smile, also because Stannis was watching her closely. He was smiling as well, obviously happy with how his plan was going. She shot Jon a quick look which he did not return, since he was too busy staring at the ground. _Fantastic._ A husband who likes grass more than his wife, excellent.

Stannis seemed to notice that as well, since he stepped forward and took the word. “I supposed it is time for the wedding dance now, isn’t that right?”

“Exactly”, Eddard Stark nodded, shooting his son an encouraging look.

Slow classic music began to play already and Melisandre waited for a reaction from her husband’s side, but he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. She rolled her eyes, moving closer to him. “We have to dance”, she muttered quietly. “Now.”

He looked up quickly, apologizing. “Oh, yeah sure.”

She smiled. “Excellent.” She did her best to look friendly and not like the blood drinking monster he obviously thought her to be.

Jon’s hand rested on her waist as they danced, but it was no more than the lightest touch possible. His eyes never met hers and he seemed distracted, maybe even troubled. She thought about saying something, but kept quiet instead. She did not want to push. They had a lifetime left for talking. Considering that she was immortal and he as a werewolf also blessed with an incredibly long lifespan, that lifetime was probably better described as an eternity. She looked up to him, the way his dark eyes reflected the moonlight. _Maybe an eternity was just a bit too long._

Fortunately, the dancing part was ending quickly. Unfortunately, the next part was even more awkward. The wedding night. The guest said goodbye, Stannis hugging her just a little too long and pressing her against him just a little to hard, before leaving without another word. Eddard and Catelyn led her inside the mansion before taking their leave, smiling friendly but never saying anything. It was a weird mood, and Melisandre felt much like an intruder in the unknown house. _How was this supposed to be her home?_ Out of a sudden, she felt incredibly lonely. As if she was utterly alone in the world. Which she was, actually. She had just never thought about it before.

They went upstairs to the second floor, which was right under the roof. Melisandre could hear the old wood cracking in the wind. “How old is this house?” she wanted to know, more to fill the silence than because she was interested.

“100 years I think”, Jon answered, leading her down the hallway to the last door. He held it open for her. “There’s no one else on this floor”, he added, as he entered the room behind her. “Robb lives on the first floor with Jeyne, my father and Catelyn with my brothers on the ground floor and my sisters in the basement.”

She frowned a little, stopping in the middle of the room. It was a huge room, neat white furniture and everything very tidy. She liked it. Earlier that day, she had brought her things to the room next door, which looked similar, but she liked this one more. It felt more personal, somehow. She turned around to Jon again. “Why do you call her Catelyn? Isn’t she your mother?” She had not meant to be so curious, actually, but they were in desperate need of an icebreaker.

“She isn’t”, he replied, sitting down on the bed. “I never knew my mother.” His eyes got sad for a moment, but it was gone after a heartbeat.

“Neither did I.” She smiled. “Or if I did I don’t remember.” Slowly, she walked over to the window, the huge dress rustling beneath her feet. The moonlight was falling through the glass, as she looked outside she watched it shine for a moment. She had always loved the moon.

Jon was quiet for a few seconds. “Why don’t you remember?” he asked then.

 _If only she knew._ She turned away from the window, back to him. “I don’t know, but I can’t recall much of my old life anymore. It’s mostly gone.” She gave her best to smile. “Doesn’t matter, though.” There was a short pause. “The past is the past.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah of course.”

This time, the silence was long. Melisandre wondered if she was supposed to make the first step. The dress was pretty tight and she would have liked to get out of it by now, but Jon seemed to be everything but interested in getting her out of it.

After another minute of uncomfortable silence, she finally took the word. “So, what are we going to do now?”

He only shrugged. “Sleep? It’s really late.”

She bit her lip. “With each other? Because otherwise I’ll have to pass, you know, vampires don’t sleep.”

Jon laughed a little. “Then what do you usually do at night?”

She had to think about that for a moment. What did she actually do? Hunting, mostly, but that was probably not the best thing to say. She felt like killing people was kind of a sensitive topic. “Just the stuff you do during the day”, was the answer she chose, just unspecific enough.

He nodded slowly, getting up and approaching her. “And what do you do during the day?”

“Trying to not be burned by sunlight?”

There was something like amusement in his eyes. “Good to know”, he replied. He was still maintaining a certain distance. There was silence again, Jon’s breathing was the only sound. Then he took the word again. “The dress is very beautiful. I haven’t told you yet.”

She smiled a little. “Was that you trying to tell me I should get out of it?”

“No”, he laughed. “That was me trying to compliment you.” He sighed. “I’m not going to sleep with you. Not today. It’s too early.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Well, we’re already married!”

He nodded. “I know, but that’s not what I meant. We don’t know each other yet.”

“So?” she replied, slowly shifting a little closer. If there was one thing she was good at, it was seduction.

Jon smiled a little. “I want to get to know you first.”

“What’s wrong with getting to know me afterwards?” Their bodies were touching by now, her fingers slowly traveled over his chest.

He sighed, softly grabbing her wrist to stop her. “I’m serious.”

She pouted at the words, even though she did notice that he was not letting go of her arm and also did not move backwards. For a moment she thought about it, if it was really a clever thing to do, but then she just leaned forward and kissed him. She could hear how his heartbeat fastened as her tongue found his way into his mouth and he let go of her wrist, allowing her to run her fingers along his jaw.

Still, he broke it of after just a few seconds. “I really am serious”, he repeated. “We’ll just wait a little longer.”

Melisandre sighed, nodding. “Okay, fine.” She paused for a second. “You want me to stay in my own room?” She was biting her lip as she awaited the answer, eyes never leaving his.

As expected, he shook his head. “Stay here.”  
She smiled. “You have a shirt for me?”

“In the drawer over there”, he answered, taking a few step back and beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Melisandre went over to the drawer and got the shirt, but she caught herself staring at his body as he removed the shirt and got into another one. Then again, he was her husband, so she could stare as long as she liked. “Would you open the dress for me?” she asked, trying to look innocently as she turned around so he could open the zipper.

His fingers slightly touched her spine as he did so and maybe it was just her imagination, but they seemed to stay on her skin just a little too long. Perhaps he was not so uninterested after all. She let the dress fall on the floor and stepped out of it, standing there half naked since she had not worn a bra underneath the silk. She had hoped that Jon would at least pay some attention to that fact, but he had his back turned to her. Melisandre sighed quietly, then got into the shirt and made her way over to his bed. Vampires could not sleep but they could rest, which was nice too after a long day. Or a long night, correctly speaking. Besides, laying next to her gave Jon the chance to rethink his plan.

“How is it like, never sleeping?” he wanted to know now, as she laid down next to him.

Melisandre shrugged. “Well, we still need to rest so it’s not much of a difference. We just don’t fall asleep but stay awake when we close our eyes. Mostly during the day though.”

He nodded. “Then I guess I have to change my sleep schedule up a little if I actually want to see you.”

She smiled. “I guess you have to.”

They fell silent again, Jon looked at her for a moment. At first she thought he was going to kiss her, but then he just broke the eye contact and muttered something like “Good night” in her direction. She rolled her eyes a little, watching him turn of the light and the room fall into darkness. Not real darkness though, not for her, since her eyes were used to it. She closed them for a moment, trying to not think about what had happened today. In this very moment, she wished she could actually fall asleep. Forget about all this for a while. Instead, she chose to listen to Jon’s heartbeat. It was oddly soothing, calming her down. She looked over to him, eyes closed.

She hoped that they could make this work.

 


	4. Chess

It was already morning when Jon opened his eyes, sunlight was falling through the window and created little rainbows on the floor. Melisandre next to him was gone, naturally, since she probably did not want to get roasted by the sun. Slowly, he sat up and looked around him. Her wedding dress was gone too, the other half of the bed looked like it had never been used. There was no trace of her left. As if she had just disappeared. But he knew that she hadn’t, of course, so he got up from the bed intending to search for her.

First, he tried her bedroom. However, the room was empty. There was no trace of her either, apart from the fact that her suitcases were unpacked by now. Obviously she had had a busy night. Sighing, he left her room by shutting the door and made his way downstairs. He did not really believe that she was in the kitchen or the living room but he went there first nevertheless, finding his brother Robb.

“Jonny, good morning”, he greeted him with a pat on the shoulder, handing him a cup of coffee. “Black, as you like it.”

Jon smiled a bit, tasting the coffee. “Thanks.” He looked around, leaning against the counter. “Have you seen Melisandre?”

Robb laughed at the question. “First day and you already lost her? Has the wedding night been that bad?”

Jon only rolled his eyes, staying quiet. He did rather not discuss that topic with Robb, he would not understand anyway. “Have you seen her or not?”

“No, of course I haven’t seen her!” his brother snapped, annoyed. “Have you looked in her room?”

“I’m not stupid, Robb”, he answered dryly, sipping at his coffee. It was too bitter, but he did not mind much. “Of course I’ve looked in her room.”

His brother sighed. “Then I don’t know. She certainly can’t be around here somewhere, too much light.” He grinned a little. “How do you like her, anyway? She’s really hot.”

Jon ignored the last bit of the sentence. “She’s nice”, was all he replied. There was nothing more to say, actually.

Robb rolled his eyes. “ _Nice_? Seriously? Have you looked at her?”

“I don’t know her, I have no idea if I like her”, Jon muttered, drinking another sip of coffee. He was too fast though, the coffee was too hot and he burned himself. The morning really started off perfectly!

His brother nodded. “Alright, alright, no reason to be pissed.” There was a short pause. “But you have to admit she’s hot.”

Jon sighed. _Of course she is._ “You do know that you’re married right?”

He shrugged. “So? I’m only saying the truth.” He laughed a little. “I’m not planning on stealing her from you, no worries.”

“I did not think that”, Jon muttered into his cup, finishing the coffee and placing the empty cup on the counter. “I’ll go see where she is.” Without waiting for an answer he left the kitchen, taking the stairs down to the basement where his sisters lived.

Sansa and Arya were both at a boarding school so currently not at the house, so Melisandre might be down there somewhere. Passing Arya’s room, he remembered how much he actually missed her. She had always been his favorite with who he had spent the most time and now he had not seen her in months.

In the basement, it was completely dark. However there was something like a glow under one of the doors, the one which led to one of the mostly unoccupied rooms. Without bothering to turn on the lights, he went downstairs and opened the door.

As he had expected, he found Melisandre there. She was sitting on a small couch in front of a camping table, a game of chess in front of her. As he walked in, she looked up.

“Oh, the husband! Hey.” She smiled, leaning back. “What are you doing here?” She looked just as gorgeous as she had the day before, copped curls framing her pale face and matching the glow of her eyes. She had obviously changed clothes since last night, now wearing dark red satin sweatpants and a crop top, which was ironically saying “bite me” and showed a navel ring with a ruby on it.

Jon closed the door behind himself. The only light in the room came from two candles, the electric lights were turned off and there were no windows. “Looking for you”, he informed her, frowning at the chess board. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she replied innocently, an amused grin on her lips. “I’m cooking, isn’t that obvious?”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

She smiled. “I know.”

“Why are you playing chess against yourself?” he wanted to know, looking down on the board. It had been ages since he had last played, but he assumed he still knew the rules.

Melisandre shrugged. “Who should I play with?”

He frowned. “Me? Robb? I’m sure he would be delighted.”

She was quiet for a moment, thinking about the words. For a second, it seemed like there was something like sadness in her eyes. But finally, the smile was back. “Well, next time.”

“What about now?” Jon asked, trying to understand the sudden change of her eyes. “Or are you winning right now?”

She laughed. “I’m actually losing.” Slowly, she started picking the white pawns up from the board and ordered them new. “You’re black, alright?”

“Sure”, he answered, collecting his pieces himself. There were a few seconds of silence, before he spoke again. “Did you never play with anyone before?”

Melisandre did not look up, but he could feel that the sadness had returned to her eyes. “Not often, why?”

Jon shrugged. “Playing with yourself doesn’t seem like a lot of fun.”

“Well, it makes the time pass”, she replied, leaning back once again. “I don’t want to scare you, but I’m really good!”

He laughed a little, making the first move. “Well, I can deal wit that.” There was another moment of silence, Jon tried to think of something to say. He did not want to get too personal, but there he did not actually know much about her so he felt the need to ask. “What did you do all day, when you lived with Stannis?” he started, watching her eyes leave the board and settle on him. “Apart from playing chess.”

It might have been his imagination, but she did seem a little uncomfortable with the question. “Nothing, really. Stayed in during the day, went out at night.”

Jon nodded slowly. “So you went hunting at night?”

She bit her lip. “Yeah, we did.” She hesitated for a moment, then she advanced two fields with her knight. “We did actually see each other that one knight, do you remember?” There was a slight grin on her face. “You hijacked my dinner that night.”

He was sure that she knew that kind of a sensitive topic that was, but he gave his best to not comment on her killing innocent people for a living. He really tried. They were only humans, after all. And she did need them for survival. “I remember”, was all he answered, thinking of a way to change to a less explosive topic. “Where you born in this city?” he wanted to know, ignoring the fact that she had just told him the night before that she had next to no memories of her past.

As expected, Melisandre shrugged. “I don’t know. Were you?”

Jon nodded. “Yeah, born and raised. Did Stannis turn you?”

Her eyes were fixed on the game. A little too fixed, maybe. “Yes.”

Despite the fact he felt like she was uncomfortable with the topic, he went on. “Why did he do that?”

She shrugged again. “He never told me.”

“Didn’t you ask?” He was not sure why but he felt the need to keep pressing.

Melisandre seemed to feel that too, since she looked up, slightly frowning. Slowly, she leaned back on the couch, arms crossed in front of her chest. “I did ask. But he didn’t tell me. To be honest, he did not tell me much of anything.”

Jon nodded, advancing with his queen. Melisandre had been right, he was already losing. “Then why did you even live with him?”

She was biting her lip heavier by now, as if she kept getting more nervous. “I was his adviser, I guess. Besides, where should I go? I knew nobody but him and that stupid friend of his.” She smile on her lips grew. “I just checkmated you.”

Jon’s attention drifted back to the board. “Oh”, he replied.

Melisandre laughed. “You shouldn’t have moved the queen.”

She was right, of course. It had been a stupid move. “I guess I wasn’t concentrated”, he muttered, leaning back in his chair.

“Or I’m just a champion at chess”, she smiled, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Another game? I’ll teach you how to actually win!”

He nodded, picking up his pawns. “You got lucky.”

She laughed. “Yeah right.”

 

-

 

Footsteps echoed from the high walls, candle flames danced in the wind of a movement for a heartbeat. Blonde hair glowed in the candle light, dark figures met around a table. Cups were risen, blood was spilled. The red drops decorated the blackness of the wooden floor, leaving marks. Red eyes shone in the dim light.

Much time passed until someone spoke. It was quiet, not even interrupted by the drawing of breath. Complete and utter silence. Inhuman. _Otherworldly_.

Finally, Cersei Lannister rose her voice. “You know why we have come here tonight.” She looked to her right, exchanging a look with her brother. “We have assembled because the Baratheon’s have allied with the Stark clan.”

The woman at the other end of the table put down her cup at the sound of the words, eyes meeting Cersei’s. “We have underestimated Stannis for too long.” Her eyes grew cold. “ _You_ have underestimated him.” There was more than a little dose of accusation in the words, obvious to everyone in the room.

Cersei’s lips changed into a smile. “You are saying this is my fault. That I should have done something about it sooner, is that it, Margaery?”

Margaery nodded. “That was exactly what I was implying.” She looked around herself. “We are sitting here only because you have been too blind to see the threat that was and is Stannis Baratheon. The Starks are the biggest clan in the area, together with Stannis’ forces they outnumber us.”

The others began to exchange alarmed looks, eyes all traveling to Cersei Lannister.

“You should have never let this marriage happen”, Margaery added, taking a long sip from her cup. Her eyes never left her opponent.

Cersei was very silent, her face frozen as ice. But her eyes sparkled with anger. Still, she remained silent.

Margaery laughed amused. “That is all the ‘Queen of the Underworld’ has to say?” The mocking tone of her voice was clearly audible. There was a smile on her lips. “Perhaps it is time for a new Queen?”

Cersei’s eyes grew bigger. “How dare you”, she growled, already beginning to stand up, as her brother held her back. They exchanged a quick whisper, then it was silent again.

Margaery Tyrell smiled, before getting up from her chair herself. “This meeting is over, Cersei. We don’t follow you any longer.”

Around her, the vampires followed her example by getting up. Only half of the figures remained seated.

“You have proven yourself unworthy of being Queen.” Margaery rose her cup, as if she was going to speak a toast. “To the former Queen of the underworld. Although you never had that title anyway. Since the throne is empty.” With a last smile she emptied her cup, before smashing it down on the table. “I hereby lay claim to the throne of the underworld.”

Cersei’s eyes shone like rubies. “You have no right to that throne.”

The other woman smiled. “Neither had your husband. He, too, stole it. Have you forgotten?”

Silence filled the room once more, as Margaery Tyrell turned around and left the room. Her people left with her, leaving only the silent Lannisters.

Cersei waited until the footsteps had died, before she rose her voice again. “I want her dead.” She turned to her brother. “I want her dead, tonight.”

Jaime Lannister frowned. “Killing her would only make her people rally with Stannis.”

“I don’t care”, Cersei growled, standing up so fast that her chair almost fell. “I want that little whore ripped into pieces.”

There was a moment of quiet, before Jaime Lannister nodded. “Of course. But father will not be pleased.”

“I don’t care if father will be pleased!” she was screaming by now, rage dancing in the red of her eyes. “I am the Queen!”

Jaime smiled. “Of course you are, your grace.” He took the cup to his lips, sipping slowly. “I’ll take care of it.”

His sister nodded, still pacing through the room. “What are we going to do about Stannis and his little alliance?” She shook her head. “I knew that little red bitch was going to be a problem sooner or later.”

“Should we kill her too?” Jaime asked sarcastically, taking another big sip of blood. “Maybe we should wait a bit, dear sister. Maybe the problem will solve itself.”

Cersei stopped pacing, eyes on her brother. “How so?”

He smiled. “Vampires and werewolves are not exactly known to be best friends. Stannis took a risk with that kind of alliance and perhaps it’s gonna explode sooner or later anyway. Who knows how long his little plaything survives among the wolves.”

A smile rose on Cersei Lannister’s lips. “Bring me the Tyrell girl’s head. The rest is for later, dear brother.” She turned to the huge glass mirror behind her, which provided an image of the whole room. There were drops of blood on the glass. “We will rule the underworld, sooner or later. And who ever stands in our way will either bend or break.”

Jaime raised his cup. “Cheers.”


	5. Reliance

Stannis was reading in the dining hall as Davos walked in, face even more grim than it usually was.

“Your grace, there’s a visitor.”

Stannis looked up from the pages, already slightly annoyed. The sun had just disappeared and usually he did not expect visitors at that time of day. He was half tempted to send that someone away, but he was aspiring to be king, so he should better get used to people distracting him. So instead of continuing to read he closed his book and placed in on the table. “Send him in”, he instructed the other man, getting up from his chair.

Davos hesitated a moment. “It is a she, sire.”

Stannis’ eyebrows arched upwards. “Excuse me?”

“It is a she. Margaery Tyrell, to be more precise.” He turned to the door. “I’ll send her in.”

Stannis nodded slowly. “Yes, yes, send her in.” _Margaery Tyrell, that was one interesting turn._ The girl was known to be the lapdog of Cersei Lannister, always following where ever the older woman went. And always supporting and backing her up with the Tyrell army she had inherited when her older brother’s died in the rebellion. Now she only had one brother left, Loras, a dear friend of his own brother Renly. The both of them were currently out of town but were soon to be expected back, which was a good thing, since Stannis needed all the support he could get and if Renly could persuade Loras Tyrell to join his cause… He smiled a little at the thought that it could be so easy, just by placing one person at the right position… it was like playing chess, truly.

The same thing he had done with Renly and Loras he had also done with Melisandre and the Starks, bringing the right pawns together to create an alliance. It had been so easy, persuading them and bringing them to his side. So easy. And now he had the whole Stark clan at his back and if the rumors were true and there were in fact tensions among the Lannisters, they might soon be facing a serious family dispute and were distracted, so he could continue to win territory.

It amused him how Melisandre seemed to be so unaware of the position she was in and what he was doing, since she always claimed to be so good at chess strategies. They had always been even when they had played, which had not been often since he really had other things to do than waste his thoughts on playing chess, but now he could use the game to his advance. If he was honest, he even missed Melisandre a little. It was too quiet in the house without her and the devotion she had had for him had always been kind of charming.

Perhaps that had been the reason he had been so eager to break his marriage vows with her. His wife was not in the city, not for months, but it had still been a mistake. A mistake he had carried on for too long, if he was honest.

His thoughts were finally interrupted by Margaery Tyrell walking into the room, one cup of blood in each hand. “King Stannis”, she greeted, not unfriendly, but not entirely without a small hint of mockery. “I am delighted to see you once more.”

Stannis smiled dryly, taking one of the cups from her hands. “I heard you proclaimed yourself Queen this morning. A bold move, if I may say that.” He took a sip of blood, the liquid sweet and warm on his tongue. “I would have liked to see Cersei’s face.”

She laughed. “It was in fact quite amusing. Not the reason I am here, however.” Walking around the table, she studied the room. “It’s a nice home you have here.” She stopped in front of the book he had read earlier, looking at the cover. “Greek, interesting. I would have thought you to be a Latin kind of guy.”

“I speak both”, Stannis replied, watching her eyebrows rise at the words.

Then she smiled. “Of course you do.”

“But that is not the reason you came here either, is it?”

Margaery laughed. “No, it is not. In fact, I came here hoping for an alliance.”

Stannis nodded, having expected that.

Now that the Tyrell’s had openly broken with the Lannister’s that was the most obvious move, since Margaery’s life was surely in danger now. Jaime and Cersei Lannister were infamously known for taking care of their enemies by murdering them, ever since they had done so with his brother Robert, Cersei’s husband. When he had in fact never liked Robert much, he was still his brother and a part of his family, so Stannis had seen it as his duty to claim the throne and built his brother’s legacy. Cersei however had taken the throne for herself and the throne had been proclaimed unoccupied, until one party could win it once and for all. Until now that had not happened, neither party being strong enough to start a real war. But with the Tyrell’s at his back, Cersei would be hopelessly outnumbered. He would have a real chance.

“An alliance, I see”, Stannis answered slowly, playing with the cup in his hands. He watched Margaery’s red eyes for a moment.

She nodded. “We have a common enemy, it is the natural choice.”

Stannis remained silent for a moment. “And after we dealt with the Lannisters, what do you propose we do then?”

Margaery smiled. “Split the kingdom. Share it.”

He frowned, taking another sip of his drink.

It was difficult to answer, truly. Certainly, he would not share the underworld. That was neither possible nor did he wish to do so and he was almost certain that Margaery did not intend to do so anyway. As soon as the Lannister’s had been destroyed there would be a war among the two of them, one that would cost Stannis even more time and effort.

It might be much easier to let Cersei deal with Margaery instead, using the time he got through that to build his own army. Knowing Cersei, she would be so furious and raging by now that she forgot about everything else but Margaery Tyrell, allowing him to use that to his advantage. And when the girl was dealt with, he would have the chance to persuade Loras to join him. The boy would be much easier to deal with than his sister, especially because he did not seem to have intentions to become King himself. And after Cersei had his sister killed he would most certainly not join the Lannister’s either, Stannis being the obvious choice for him.

Stannis looked up from his cup, a sad smile on his face. “Forgive me, my dear, but my answer is no.”

Margaery’s eyes grew wide for a moment, before she nodded slowly. “You want the Underworld all for yourself.”

“I certainly do and I am sure you feel the same. Why else have you laid claim to the throne?”

She crossed the arms in front of her chest, obviously thinking. But then she simply nodded. “Fine. No alliance.” The smile was back on her lips. “Then you will not get to hear my insights on Cersei Lannister’s plans either.”

He laughed a little, watching her walk towards the door. “Cersei has no plans, you know that just as well as I do. She does what she wants when she wants, without planning.. Without strategies. She never makes plans.”

Margaery stopped in the door frame, turning around to face Stannis once more. “Well, she certainly has one for your red friend.” There was a moment of silent eye contact, then she turned around and left without another word. The door fell shut and then it was utterly quiet.

But as Margaery walked out the door, she dialed a number on her cellphone. Her face lighted up as she heard the male voice on the other end of the line. “Loras, how good to hear you! It’s been quite some time. Tell me, are you still friends with this Renly Baratheon? I could use his help.”

 

-

 

“Stannis did not tell you why the meeting was so urgent?”

Melisandre rolled her eyes. “No, but that’s normal. Like I said, he never tells me much of anything.” She stopped in front of the window, turning around to face her husband. “Why is that a problem? I’ll be back in a few hours, you won’t even notice I’m gone, you’ll be asleep!”

Jon crossed his arms in front of his chest, deeply frowning. “I don’t like this. My father said you should stay in the house or I should go with you.”

As much as his attitude annoyed her, she could not stop the little smile on her face. “Are you worried about my safety?”

He shrugged. “Yes, so? We’re married, that’s normal.”

She grinned. “Yeah, right. Well, as cute as that is, I don’t need you to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

Jon sighed. “I know, but would it be so bad if I would help you with it?”

“Stannis said it was a private meeting”, she answered, opening the window and leaning out, looking up to the roof. “I don’t think he would like you to come with me.”

“Well, it should not be a private meeting in the first place”, he commented, approaching her frowning. “What are you doing?”

She turned back to him. “I’m checking the distance to the roof, is that a problem? And besides, my private meetings with Stannis aren’t your business.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “They are because we have an alliance, or have you forgotten?” He sighed. “And why don’t you just walk through the door?”

Melisandre laughed, opening the window completely and climbing on the windowsill. “Where’s the fun in that, babe?”

He watched her climb outside, balancing on the small sill with the six inch heels she was wearing.

She could feel his eyes on her, following her every move. “You do remember that even if I fall down, I’d be perfectly fine?” she asked from outside, as he walked closer. She would not admit it, but she did like the protectiveness. And the fact that he worried about her.

“I would just prefer if you left through the door”, he muttered, sighing a little. “You’ll be back in a few hours, right? Because if my father notices you are gone I’ll have to tell him you snuck out and he’s going to be mad if you don’t come back.”

Melisandre laughed, kneeling on the sill so she could face him. “No worries, I’ll be back soon.” She studied his face, thinking whether or not a kiss would be too much. They had not talked about the whole no wedding night thing, but she had the feeling he had not changed his mind. Why not was still a mystery to her though.

But much to her surprise Jon made that decision for her, shortly pressing his lips to hers. It was no more than a soft brush, but it made her smile a little. The first step, perhaps.

“See you later”, she grinned, getting up and closing the window behind her.

With one jump, she was on top of the building, balancing on the rain gutter on the edge of the roof. It was more than easy for her, even in the heels, since Vampires were not only blessed with incredible speed and strength but also an amazing sense of balance.

The moon stood high in the sky already, accompanied by the shining of the stars. Only a few clouds dimmed their light, the night being mostly clear. A cool wind was rising, gently moving the trees in its rhythm. From up the roof, the world did truly look beautiful. Peaceful, even. As if there was nothing in it that could destroy that peace.

 

-

 

“You are late”, Stannis greeted her in his usual not very friendly manner as she walked into his living room, where he had sat down to read and have a drink. By now, the cup was empty though and so was his patience. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago!”

Melisandre frowned at the sudden anger, pouring herself a cup of blood. “The way here took a bit longer than I expected, I’m sorry.” She took a sip of her drink. “What was so urgent for me to literally fly here?”

There was a moment of silence. “Did anyone follow you?”

She could not help but laugh. “What?”

Stannis grinned his teeth. “That was a simple question.”

“Why are you so angry with me?” she wanted to know, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Of course no one was following me.”

She was surprised how relieved he looked. “Good, good. Yes, that’s excellent. That means we have time.”

Melisandre shook her head. “Time for what?” She approached him, leaving her cup on the table. “What is going on?”

Stannis sighed. “Nothing, my dear, it is all good. I was just worried because our new alliance might propose a little… _threat_ to some people.”

She did not believe him, since his eyes told a whole different story than his lips, but she knew better than to question him openly. “People like Cersei Lannister? What did she do?”

“Nothing, nothing”, he insisted quickly. A little too quick, maybe. “But Margaery Tyrell declared herself Queen this afternoon, so things are getting a little heated right now.”

Melisandre raised her eyebrows. “Margaery Tyrell? The little brown haired doll who always runs behind Cersei Lannister? Wow. Quite the surprise!”

Stannis frowned. “You should not be so amused about this turn of events.”

She shrugged. “Why not? Her break up with Cersei should mean she comes to us for help.”

He took his time with the answer, perhaps considering how much he could reveal to her. “Neither your husband nor his family will hear any of the things I say to you now, is that understood?”

She was surprised for a seconds, but nodded all the same. “Yes, of course.” Insights in Stannis’ plans were far to exciting to not agree. She would have to find a lie to tell Jon, but that was for later.

“She was already here earlier today. Wanted to share the underworld. I refused, naturally, leaving her on her own.”

Melisandre nodded slowly. “Oh, wow.” There was a short pause. “You could have agreed and dealt with her later.” She leaned against the table, reaching for her cup and taking another sip of blood. She had not been hunting since before the wedding and the thirst was starting to come through.

Stannis shook his head. “No, I have other plans with her.” He put his cup on the table. “Speaking of plans, how is your husband?”

She shrugged. “He’s fine.”

Stannis frowned at the words. “Fine, or completely intrigued by you?” He smiled a little. “I hope the wedding night was a success.”

She bit her lip, debating whether to tell him or not. “He was not yet intrigued enough for a wedding night.”

“Then you better convince him that he is very fast”, Stannis answered, placing his cup on the table next to her. Their bodies were very close by now. “Because his trust in you is essential for my plan to work. You understand that, right?”

She smiled. “Of course I do. I do my best.”

“I hope you do. Because it would very much disappoint me if I placed my trust in the wrong person. And we do not want me to be disappointed, do we, my dear?” His lips were very close to hers, only inches away.

But there was a slight hint of a threat behind the words, one that Melisandre had learned to hear after so many years on Stannis’ side. She gave her best to keep the smile. “Of course not, sire.”

“Good”, he replied, leaning back and withdrawing. “You can leave. Find the door yourself.” Without looking back, he grabbed his book and left the room, the door quietly falling shut behind him.

Melisandre sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as the tension left her body. _What had she gotten into?_


	6. Past

His family was already seated as Jon entered the dining hall and sat down next to Robb, a little surprised by how serious his father was looking.

His brother seemed to have noticed that as well. “Father, is something wrong?”

Eddard frowned deeply. “Margaery Tyrell proclaimed herself Queen this afternoon. Cersei Lannister is furious, she let her brother burn down a dozen houses in the city to find her, but she has disappeared.” He sighed. “An alliance with the Tyrell’s would have been the last straw to fight the Lannisters, but instead we have one more enemy...”

Robb nodded slowly. “What do you propose we do about it?”

“Call in the Karstarks. Tell them to search the whole city for Margaery Tyrell and bring her here. I do not want that girl to die. Her support is too vital for this course.” His father’s eyes traveled to Jon. “Where is Melisandre? It is night, she should be up!”

Jon shifted a little, uncomfortably. “She’s upstairs. Doing… vampire stuff.”

His brother laughed, but Eddard only nodded. “Alright, then I suppose you have time to accompany Robb to the Karstarks?”

“Actually”, he replied quickly. “I think it would be better if I stayed. You know, she is a little thirsty at the moment and with Catelyn in the house...” It was not necessarily the truth, but leaving Melisandre alone with Catelyn was still probably not the best idea.

His father nodded slowly. “Alright, then you stay here. And take her hunting, perhaps. We do not want any accidents.”

“Of course not, father”, Jon replied quickly. That was the last thing he wanted.

Robb was laughing, as he got up from his chair. “Can’t keep your girl in hand, Jon? Is she too much for you?”

“Very funny”, he muttered in his brother’s direction, following his example by leaving the table. “I’ll go and check on her.”

Robb grinned in his direction. “Make sure she has not eaten our mother yet.”

Jon rolled his eyes and made his way upstairs without another word, silently hoping that Melisandre would be back by now and that she had not in fact tried to eat Catelyn. Perhaps letting her out of the house alone had not been that much of a good idea…

 

-

 

To his relief, Melisandre was already lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling as he entered his room. Moonlight was falling through the window glass, creating patterns on the wooden floor. Outside it was still pitch black, a little after 2am.

“I was wondering when you’d be done with your little secret meeting downstairs.”

Jon laughed a little at her words, watching her roll onto her stomach and smile at him. “Not so secret when you have a vampire in the house, is it?” He sat down on the bed next to her. “How much have you heard?”

She grinned, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Why, was your brother meeting with the Karstarks supposed to be a secret? And your father trying to convince Margaery Tyrell to give him her army?”

Jon sighed. “Well, I guess in the future we’ll have our meetings when you’re out hunting.” There was a moment of silence. “What did Stannis want?” he asked, carefully.

For a brief second, she hesitated. Then she shrugged. “Wanted to make sure you were being nice.”

“He did not by any chance mention Margaery Tyrell?” It was far too much of a coincidence that Stannis called in a meeting with Melisandre the same day that the little Tyrell proclaimed herself Queen. He must have had some sort of plan.

But being who she was, Melisandre only grinned and bit her lip. “Margaery who?”

Jon smiled. “You’re a terrible liar.”

She sat up, seeming slightly offended. “I-” she leaned forward, lips brushing against his. The smell of rosewood perfume filled his nose. “am a great liar.” She withdrew, giggling and jumping down from the bed. “I just wasn’t trying.” He watched her crossing the room and stopping in front of the window, watching the sky for a moment. “You want to go hunting with me now? Before the sun rises and roasts me?”

She was changing the subject, obviously, but he was not so fast to let her off the hook. “So he said nothing about Margaery? What he was planning to do about her?” he wanted to know, getting up from the edge of the bed himself.

Melisandre sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. A little too dramatically, maybe. “No. I had not even heard of her before your father mentioned her to you. I don’t know anything.” She opened the window. “You want to come or not?”

“Certainly not through the window”, Jon commented, approaching her. “And only after you tell me the truth. Stannis certainly did not call upon you to ask how you were doing.”

Melisandre threw the window shut, a little too heavy. “Taking the stairs is so basic”, she muttered, turning around to face him. “And so is interrogating your wife, by the way. That’s not very nice.”

Jon could not help but smile. “Neither is lying to your husband, for that matter.”

She sighed. “Believe me, if I was lying you would not have noticed.” She opened the door, moving away from him. “Can we leave? Because that mother of yours is beginning to smell more and more delicious.”   
Gently, he pushed her out of the room, closing the door behind him. “She is not my mother. And you won’t eat her.”

“I bet you couldn’t stop me”, she teased, sitting down on the banisters and slowly sliding downstairs.

Jon shook his head in amusement. “Why can’t you just do one thing normally?”

“Where’s the fun in that, babe?” she asked, already waiting for him downstairs. “Besides I’m not as slow as you.”

Jon rolled his eyes, opening the front door and holding it open for her. “Come on, let’s go. You’re unbearable when you’re thirsty.”

She smiled innocently. “Believe me, you haven’t experienced me when I’m really thirsty.”

“If I’m honest, I’m not planning on doing so”, Jon replied dryly, watching her look up to the sky as she stepped out the door. “What are you doing?” 

Melisandre smiled, the moonlight making her red eyes sparkle. “I love the moon.” She giggled a little. “Not as much as you though, I assume.”

“Very funny”, Jon muttered, following her down the road which led away from the mansion. “Where do you usually go? _Hunting_?” 

She turned around quickly, stopping in the middle of the road. “You don’t have to come with me if you have a problem with killing, you know that right?” Her voice was suddenly very serious. “It might be a little… disturbing to watch, maybe.”

He only smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

The grin was back on her lips as she continued walking backwards, so she could face him. “Have you ever killed someone?”

Jon frowned. “Yes.”

“Who?” she wanted to know, eyes full of curiosity. The moon was still reflecting in her iris.

Jon sighed. Murder was far from his favorite topics. “I don’t know, someone from another clan. While my family was fighting the Frey’s.”

She smiled  teasingly. “How did you do it? With your fangs?” 

Jon shook his head, not able to completely hold back the smile. “You’re crazy, do you know that?”

Her laugh echoed through the silent night. “Sorry, I get a little dramatic when I’m thirsty.”  Next second she froze, eyes suddenly alert. “Speaking of thirsty, I think I just found my dinner.” 

He tried to listen closely, but there was only silence. She must have heard the person’s heartbeat. If he was honest, Jon felt a little sorry for that someone.

“I’ll be back in a second”, Melisandre muttered, smiling innocently, before disappearing within a heartbeat. It was truly crazy how fast she was.

Jon sighed quietly, looking around him through the darkness. Actually, he was glad that he did not have to watch her do the actual killing, that would perhaps be a little too much on their second day together. Ruin the mood, kind of.

Barely two minutes passed before Melisandre reappeared, messy hair and a content smile on her lips. “I was afraid you escaped”, she commented, heels quietly clicking on the asphalt of the street as she approached him. The smell of her perfume was heavy, but he could still smell the blood. He tried to ignore it the best he could. Still, he should better get used to it.

Jon rolled his eyes at her comment. “Where should I go? You live with me, it’s too late to escape.”

“Wow, that was rude”, she replied, pouting a little.

He laughed quietly. “How did your dinner go?” Calling it dinner made it easier, sort of.

Melisandre looked up to him for a second, checking if the question had been a serious one. “We don’t have to talk about it, you know. We can just change the topic.”

The wiser choice, perhaps. “Sure, what do you want to talk about?” he answered,  glad for the way out. 

There was a moment of silence while she thought about the words. “Well, since you’ve been so eager to ignore the topic until now… let’s talk about that wedding night that never happened.”   
Jon sighed. Now her dinner sounded like the better alternative, truly. “What is there to talk about?”   
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you didn’t want to sleep with me and refuse to tell me why?” She sounded offended, a lot more than he would have thought.

He frowned in her direction. “I told you I wanted to wait.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know, I heard that. My question is why.” She bit her lip. “Are you not into redheads?”

The question sounded so ridiculous in his head that he actually did have to laugh. “You think the problem is that I am not into you?”

Melisandre stopped walking, arms crossed in front of her. “Everyone I know would be happy to sleep with me, if I’m honest.”

Jon laughed. “Well, that’s good to know.” It truly surprised him how serious she looked. “Melisandre, you don’t really believe that this is your fault, do you?”

She shrugged slowly. “I don’t know. That’s why I was asking, you know.”

He really did not want her to get sad or insecure over this, but the truth did not seem like a good alternative either. He did not feel ready to tell her yet. Instead he only sighed. “It’s not because I don’t like you or anything.”

“Wow, I feel so much better now, thanks”, she muttered sarcastically.

Jon rolled his eyes. “Would you stop the whole passive aggressive thing?”

“Would you stop the whole lying to me thing?” she snapped, approaching him slowly. “There’s something I don’t know, right? Some other reason.” She grinned a little. “Are you a virgin?” 

Jon sighed. “You’re not funny.”

Melisandre smiled. “I’m not trying to be funny. I’m just trying to find out what your problem is.”

He shook his head, turning around and continuing to walk. “I don’t have a problem.” That was a lie, truly, but she did not have to know that. His past was something that he better not spoke of, at least not now. Later, perhaps. When he knew her a little better.

But Melisandre was not ready to give up yet. Within a second, she was in front of him. “ Come on, we’re married now”, she tried again, smiling as sweet as she could. “Married people don’t have secrets.” 

Jon raised his eyebrows. “Really? Then tell me about your meeting with Stannis today!”

She looked truly offended for a moment. “Hey, that was mean! I didn’t lie about that!”

He gave his best to ignore her, trying to continue walking without answering.

Suddenly, realization lightened up her face. “Oh my god”, she whispered, eyes widened. “It’s another woman, isn’t it?” She blocked his way, so he was forced to look at her. “Am I right?”

He sighed deeply. She was good, he had to give her that. “Yes”, he muttered quietly.

Melisandre stared at him. “W ho is she? And where is she?” 

Jon tried to keep his eyes down, escaping her eyes. The words did not come easy over his lips. “Her name was Ygritte. And she is dead.”

Melisandre’s jaw dropped, for a moment even she was out of words. “Oh”, was all she was able to say. After a few seconds, she quickly added a “I’m sorry.” It really sounded sincere, though. Like she meant what she said.

Actually, Jon had been over it. Over her. He really had been. It was two years ago, the past, and he had dealt with it. Still, the thought of another woman in his life had been sort of… hard to bear. Especially when it came to sleeping with her.

“How did she die?” Melisandre asked carefully, as if she was not certain whether she had the right to ask.

Jon sighed. “She was killed two years ago. I don’t know who did it. It just happened.”

Slowly, Melisandre nodded. “I’m sorry”, she repeated.

“It’s alright, I’m over it.” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to tell you just yet, I thought it would be a little too heavy for the start.” There was a short pause, he was not certain how to continue. “But I’m glad you know now.” He tried not to think about Ygritte too much anymore, tried to lock the thought of her away in the darkest corner of his mind. That chapter of his life was over now. It was the past.

Melisandre bit her lip, walking next to him in silence for a moment. She looked almost guilty. “Well, now you told me your secret, I guess I’ll have to tell you mine too.”

Jon frowned, a little worried out of a sudden.

She was silent for a moment. “Promise not to judge me.”

He laughed a little, but stopped, seeing how serious she was. “Yes, yes, I promise.”

“Good”, she muttered, crossing her arms in front of her. Once again, she stopped walking. She was still biting her bottom lip. “I might be, or have been, maybe, kind of in love with Stannis.”

There was a long silence following those words, in which she was trying very hard to look anywhere but his eyes and where Jon was trying to cope with what he had just heard. Finally, he was able to regain his voice. “Stannis”, he repeated. “You’re in love with Stannis?”

“Maybe”, she replied quickly, taking a small step back. “Remember your promise?”

Jon sighed. “Stannis, sure”, he tried again, a little less accusing and confused.

Melisandre smiled weakly. “I’m so stupid, really. I was just trying to get some information out of him and I sort of fell for him, I think.”

Jon frowned. “Trying to get information how?”

If it would not have been dark, he could have sworn that she had blushed. “Sex”, she muttered. “I’m really good at that. You would know, if we would have had that wedding night. I always get what I want through that.”

“Oh, I bet”, Jon muttered, turning away slightly and running his hand through his hair. That were truly a little too many information at once. Finally, he faced her again. “But that’s over now, right? Your little… whatever.”

She swallowed hard. “Yes, sure. It was over long before yesterday, truly. He didn’t want me either.” For a second, there was truly something like hurt in her eyes. Insecurity, sadness even. But it was gone in an instant.

Jon sighed quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Melisandre only nodded, walking past him and continuing her way up the road. “Yeah well, me too.” She looked down on the floor, hiding her eyes.

He had actually never liked Stannis, although he did not know him very well, but his dislike had just reached a whole new level. He was not sure why seeing Melisandre upset made him so sad himself, but he was suddenly really angry at Stannis. A little jealous maybe, but mostly angry.

He felt the urge to say something to cheer her up, but cheering up others had actually never been his kind of thing. For a moment he hesitated, but then he just took her hand and stayed silent.

Melisandre smiled a little. There was no need to say anything, at this point.

 


	7. Guilt

The door of the Lannister mansion opened automatically as the huge black sedan drove through it. It was still dim, the sun had not risen yet, but Jaime Lannister still wore a huge pair of black sunglasses to shield his eyes from the weak light. Quickly he left his car with the darkened windows and went inside the huge townhouse, closing the door behind him and shutting the light out. All the blinds had been pulled down, candles on the walls were the only sources of lights. Once, children had lived here. Three, to be precise. There had been laughter and there had been happiness. Those were gone now, had left with the three kids. Cersei had sent them all to a boarding school after their father’s death, for their own safety. Now the house was only empty. Empty and quiet.

“Cersei?” Jaime broke the silence, making his way towards the dining room where his sister usually sat. As expected, he found her there, the usual glass of blood in her hand. The liquid gleamed in the candle light.

She looked up as he walked in. “Tell me you found that little bitch and ripped her to pieces.”

Jaime sighed. His sister had always had a hot temper, but Margaery Tyrell seemed to drive her especially mad. “She had disappeared. Left the city, probably. Varys told me he can not locate her either.”

Cersei grinned her teeth. “Varys that little idiot… how could she get away?”

“He also said Margaery payed out dear friend Stannis a visit before she left”, Jaime added carefully, approaching her further. “He has rejected her offer of an alliance. Fortunately for us.”

His sister shook her head. “That was to be expected. He does not like sharing.” She looked up from her cup. “I want that girl dead. And Stannis and his little plaything too!”

“I have people looking for Margaery. If she returns to the city, they will find her.”

Cersei smiled. “Good.” She took a sip from her cup. “What about Stannis’ toy? The girl he gave to the Starks?”

Jaime shrugged. “She does not seem to be much of a threat, does she? It is the Starks I worry about.” He sat down on the table, next to his sister. “Varys reported that the eldest Stark has been assembling and teaming up with the Karstarks. They are searching for the Tyrell girl themselves.”

A smile appeared on Cersei’s lips. “Do they indeed? That is quite the interesting development.” She leaned back in her chair. “I am certain Varys has people inside the Stark clan? I want them to spread the word of Margaery’s visit to Stannis. I want the whole city talking about it by tomorrow’s sunset. If the Starks and Baratheon’s are busy with solving their own issues, they won’t be focusing on us any longer.”

Jaime nodded. “Of course. I will arrange it.” There was a short pause. “Varys also has eyes on Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon. A well arranged pairing, Stannis has done an excellent job. They seem to be very font of each other.”

Cersei rolled her eyes. “Robert’s younger brother is the least of my problems, at the moment. Tell Varys to put his spies to better use than watching that little boy.” She took another sip of blood. “Watch Robb Stark instead. And his brother, Jon. And his little bride, too.”

He sighed quietly, nodding. “As you wish, sister.” Personally, he did not favor letting Renly Baratheon out of sight, but Cersei was the Queen, and he obeyed her orders. Eventually she always turned out to be right.

“If the Starks rally with all the clans in the area, we will soon be heavily outnumbered”, Cersei added, a thoughtful look on her eyes. Her nails scrapped along the lines of the cup. “Get me as many information as possible on that-” she interrupted herself. “”What was her name again?”

Jaime smiled weakly. “Melisandre.”

“Right. I want to know everything about her. And that Stark boy, too. I want to know if that marriage has a chance of success or if we are worrying about nothing.”

He nodded. “I’ll get Varys onto it.”

But his sister smiled knowingly. “Do it yourself! Follow her for a few days, find out what she is planning. And catch some of Stannis’ men, I want to know where he found that girl.” She thought about it for a moment. “We might be able to use her against him someday.”

“If he would care about her, why would he sell her to the Starks for an alliance?” Jaime replied, frowning slightly. That did not seem like Stannis at all. He always seemed so cold, almost frozen.

Cersei only shrugged. “Who knows.” She got up from her chair. “Get me the information I need within the next few days.” Her heels clicked on the floor as she left the room, her long dress crackling quietly. And then the silence returned.

 

-

 

It was shortly past 11 pm when Melisandre snuck out of the mansion, climbing out the window of her room and landing silently on the ground. As far as she knew all the Starks including Jon were asleep, giving her the perfect opportunity to disappear for a while. Not to see Stannis this time, but someone else, somebody she had not in fact met ever before. But that someone had certain information she needed, so she would pay him a visit.

Quickly, she made her way into the city, passing through dark streets and allies, climbing onto roofs and balconies. It was empty at that point of the night, most of her fellow vampires still hidden in the darkness of their homes. The hunting usually started later. However, she was not there for hunting. She was there to find a guy named Petyr Baelish, nicknamed Littlefinger, who was infamous for his eyes and ears all over the city. If something happened, he was the one who knew what it was.

As far as she was concerned, he operated from a corporate building on the west end of the city, a huge dark building with blinds everywhere and a few broken windows on the ground floor. Melisandre climbed through one of those, silently making her way to the stairs in the back of the house. For a second, she stopped and listened, and for a heartbeat she thought she had maybe heard the sound of steps just as quiet as her own were, but then it vanished and left only the silence. Carefully, she walked upstairs to the first floor, unsure of what to do. What she had heard of this man had only been whispers and rumors, so she was not certain of what to expect from this meeting.

Luckily, the decision of what to do was taken from her, as she discovered the name tag on the door in front of her. _Petyr Baelish, Corporate_ _Client_ _Business._ Melisandre sighed with relief, approaching the door and knocking quietly. There was no answer from within, but she entered anyway.

The man who she found sitting behind a desk in front of her was everything but what she had expected: glasses, suit, small figure and carefully watching dark red eyes. He smiled as she entered, but made no move other than a hint towards the chair in front of his desk.

Carefully, Melisandre closed the door behind her and sat down, eyes never leaving him. “Mr Baelish”, she greeted, an amused smile on her lips. “My name is Melisandre.”

He returned a polite smile, but his eyes were sparkling. “I know who you are, my dear. I have been wondering when I would finally get to meet you. And here you are. Congratulations on your new marriage.” The tone of his voice was almost mocking with the last words.

“Thank you”, she answered all the same, leaning back in her chair. “I heard you provide information on certain people for your clients.”

Littlefinger nodded. “I do indeed. And you intend to become one of my clients?”

She shrugged. “If you can tell me what I want to know.”

He laughed quietly, crossing his arms in front of his body. “I am most certain we can arrange that. Would you tell me the name, please?”

For a second, she hesitated. _Was this really a good idea?_ “Ygritte”, she replied. “I don’t know her last name or if she even had one. She was a werewolf, killed two years ago.”

For some reason, Littlefinger seemed to be amused. “How interesting, to hear that name from your lips.”

Melisandre frowned. “Why?”

“Well, since she used to be your husband’s fiance”, he mused, smiling mildly. “I figured you might not be the one asking about her.”

Melisandre remained silent for a moment. _Fiance,_ that was something Jon had not mentioned. “Excellent”, she muttered quietly, biting her lip. That was something she had not been eager to find out. “How did she die? Ygritte, I mean.”

Littlefinger sighed. “Oh, quite the tragic story I must say. She was murdered in a dark alley a few nights after the engagement had gone public. No one knows how or who did it, there are only whispers… whispers and rumors and one name that appeared there and here...”

She interrupted him. “I’m sure you know that name?” Her voice was more harsh now. She had no time for Littlefinger’s riddles.

The man in front of her sighed once more. “Vampires, always so impatient… no fondness of suspense.”

“You’re a vampire yourself”, Melisandre replied, irritated. “And now _please_ tell me the name.”

Littlefinger ignored the first part of her statement. “Your husband does not know you are here, does he?” He smiled. “Worried about him finding out that you are digging into his past?” There was a short pause. “The name that kept appearing was Jaime Lannister.”

Melisandre swallowed hard, nodding. She could have expected that. The Lannisters were famous for getting rid of their opponents in such a fashion. However, Ygritte had not been an opponent, had she? Melisandre frowned slightly. “What was her role in the war? I mean, was she the commander of a clan or something similar?”

The sparkle was back in Littlefinger’s eyes. “Ah, I see the same question in your eyes that filled my head after the tragic news of her death reached me. She was not in fact a commander, not even a key figure. The Starks assumed she had been killed due to the relation with their son.”

The argument did not make sense, still. “Why not kill Robb Stark’s wife if the aim was to weaken the Starks? He is the eldest son.”

Littlefinger nodded. “Quite the mysterious question, is it not? Kept me thinking quite a while myself.”

“And what conclusion did you draw?” she wanted to know, studying Littlefinger’s eyes. There was something he was holding back.

But the man only smiled. “No conclusion, I am afraid. My head is busy with questions like that all day, I have a business to manage and do not have time to evaluate every incident. I am only a source of knowledge, no more.”

Melisandre sighed. “Alright.” There was one last thing that was bugging her, but she was unsure if she should ask. “What was she like?” she finally said. “Ygritte?”

The smile vanished from Littlefinger’s lips. “Oh, quite a lovely young girl. Wild and reckless, but lovely. Called herself kissed by fire.”

 _Kissed by fire._ “Why was that?” Melisandre wanted to know. It reminded her of something, but she was not quite sure what it was.

Littlefinger’s eyes rested on her for a moment. “The red hair.”

Melisandre felt like she should have known it. She was not sure why, but it made sense. Out of a sudden, everything seemed to fall together to create the perfect puzzle. _Of course she had been a redhead._ Quickly, Melisandre got up from her chair. She felt dizzy, the world seemed to spin around her. Everything that ever happened suddenly added up. “I have to leave now”, she muttered in Littlefinger’s direction, who seemed quite amused once again.

“You are a clever girl”, he replied, leaning back in his chair. “I assume you did indeed draw the same conclusion as I did.”

Melisandre swallowed. “You told me you didn’t draw any conclusion.”

He smiled weakly. “The answer stroke me the day of your wedding.”

 _She had to see Stannis. Right now._ “I have to go”, she repeated, this time opening the door and hurrying to get outside.

If this was true, if her darkest assumption turned out to be true, then this was her fault. Then Ygritte had died because of _her._


	8. Oblivion

Melisandre hurried out of the building, quickly climbing out of the window and onto the street. She was already on her way down the dark street, as she suddenly felt the strong feeling of being watched. Slowly, she froze, eyes scanning the houses around her. The rooftops were all empty, the outlines of the building throwing grotesque shadows onto the pathway. It was utterly silent, only the wind was to be heard. Perhaps it had only been her imagination playing games.

She continued her walk down the street, eyes more careful this time. But the rooftops were still empty and the houses still abandoned and the air still silent. There was no one but her around. Still, she did not quite manage to lose the feeling of somebody watching her, not even when everything was safe and sound. Maybe it was a little too quiet, the houses a little too empty. Perhaps she searched for something to fill the silence, for something to fill the void inside her empty world.

Out of a sudden, her phone rang. The sound ripped the silence apart, causing her to draw a surprised breath into her empty lungs. The lungs that did not need to be filled, that did not cry for air the way human lungs did. The ones that were just dead and frozen.

Jon’s name glowed on her display, causing her to sigh deeply. For a second, she debated whether to end or answer the call, but she chose the latter. “Hey”, she muttered into the phone, continuing her walk.

“Hey”, her husband answered, a hint of worry in his voice. “Where are you?”   
Melisandre bit her lip. “Hunting, why? I needed some fresh air.” Even in her own ears the words sounded like a lie.

Jon sighed. “You could have woken me, I would have come with you.”   
She smiled at the words. “I have been hunting on my own for the last years, you do know that, right?”

He laughed. “Well, now you don’t need to go alone anymore. When will you be back?”

Her teeth sank deeper into her bottom lip. “I’m not sure yet”, she replied. “Soon, I think.”

“Alright”, he answered. “Be careful.”

Her smile grew a little bigger. She truly did not deserve him. “You know me, careful is my middle name!”   
“Yeah right”, Jon laughed. “Alright, see you later.” He hang up and the line went silent.

For a moment, she listened to the quiet of the dead line. She hated this. Why was she always forced to lie? Why could not this not just work out? She was so tired of always being careful what to say, how to act… with Jon, she had had the feeling she could be herself. But Stannis had turned her into his spy and she had to lie. If the Starks ever found out, they would most probably kill her. Not that Stannis cared, of course he did not…

Melisandre sighed quietly, before crossing a street and taking the road out of the city. She was just so tired and the thought of what she was about to do did not make her feel any better.

 

-

 

The doors opened silently as Melisandre entered the house, moonlight flowing through the huge windows and spreading across the wooden floors. The furniture was casting dark shadows on the walls, no sound was to be heard. Slowly, she walked through the hallway over to the dining room, the clicks from her heels quietly echoing from the walls. It was a weird atmosphere, a certain kind of suspense seemed to fill the air, as if something was about to happen any moment.

The dining room was vast and empty, darkness filling the corners and not a single candle burning. Melisandre sighed, making her way through the room to search the other end of the house. Suddenly, she froze. There had been no sound at all, but she felt like the air had been moving. Even a vampire could not walk without moving. She turned around slowly, meeting a pair of red eyes from across the room.

Stannis smiled. “What did I do to deserve this pleasant surprise?” he greeted her, approaching her and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. “Why are you out, at this hour of the night? Does your husband know where you are?”

“I’m not his pet”, Melisandre replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest and moving a slight step backwards.

Stannis frowned at the reaction, but he gave no comment. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“No.” She shook her head. “There is something we need to discuss.”

He smiled mildly. “Discussions tend to be so tedious. Drinks always make them more enjoyable.”

“I did not come here to drink with you”, Melisandre insisted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

Stannis frown deepened. “You sound upset. Is it something serious?”

She swallowed hard. “Well, if you call murdering someone serious, then I guess it is, yes.” Usually she did her best to avoid sarcastic answers when she was talking to Stannis, but she was to upset to think about that anymore.

He on the other hand did not even seem to react, only slightly raising his brows. “Who should I have murdered?” he wanted to know, obviously amused by the whole situation.

Melisandre clenched her jaw. “Her name was Ygritte.”

For the hint of a seconds, she thought to have seen a reaction in his eyes. But then it vanished and left only the scarlet red of his iris. “The name does not ring a bell, I am afraid”, he replied.

She shook her head. “You can not even admit it? Have you forgotten about her already? She was a wolf. Red hair.”

There was a moment of silence, before Stannis answered. “I do remember her, now that you mention it. She was your husband’s girlfriend, if I recall correctly.”

Melisandre grinned her teeth. “She was. And then you killed her.”

He sighed deeply. “Did your husband send you? Did he and that family of his start spinning conspiracy theories because they had nothing else to do?”

“Jon had nothing to do with this.” She searched Stannis’ eyes, looking for a sign that he was lying. _Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was only a coincidence._ “She was killed shortly before you turned me.”

There was something like surprise in his face for a second. But then he smiled. “You said you would not remember when I turned you. And I said I would not tell you.”

She nodded slowly. “And now I know why.”

Stannis sighed, approaching her slowly. “My dear, you are reading too much into this. Perhaps you should simply-”

She interrupted him. “You used me to get into the Stark family. You _turned_ me only for that purpose!” Her voice had grown louder. “Don’t lie to me now.”

Silence was hanging heavily in the air, as he failed to answer.

“You used me, this whole time, right? And I fell for it.”

He frowned slightly. “Like I said, I do not know what you are talking about.” His voice sounded blank, emotionless.

Melisandre shook her head. “You killed her, so you could use me as a spy to get information. To use those against the Starks after you were done with them, am I right? _Am I right_?”

“I would be very careful now, Melisandre.” Stannis’ voice had grown darker, his eyes were sparkling with anger. She had woken his temper, finally. Angry Stannis was much easier to break than cold Stannis. Much more dangerous too, but she tried not to think about that.

She smiled provocatively. “Why? Am I getting close?” Carefully, she took a step towards him. “Is it weird for you to have me scream at you after two years of you doing that to me?” She was aware that she was walking on thin ice, but she needed to hear the words from his lips.

Stannis clenched his jaw so hard, she was afraid it might break. “I would advice you to stop talking now.” He was hardly controlling his voice, she knew that he was going to be yelling at her very soon. _Good._

Melisandre shook her head. “So I am supposed to ignore that you had someone killed in an alley just because she did not fit into your plan? She was _innocent_ , Stannis, she was not your enemy!”

“Every damned wolf is my enemy”, he growled, running his hand through his hair. “And it is not my fault that girl was reckless enough to run around in dark alleys just waiting to get stabbed!”

The room fell very silent. Melisandre’s jaw dropped. She had known it before, known that he did it, but hearing it from him still shook her. “Nobody knows how she got killed”, she replied, slowly. She was afraid her voice might abandon her. “So how do you know that she was stabbed unless you did it?”

There was a long silence after the words. Stannis’ face was frozen solid, no expression was readable from his features. It seemed to be an eternity until he opened his mouth. “If I ever again hear another word of this, you will wish that you would have been the one in that alley that night.” His voice was barely audible, but no less frightening.

Melisandre remained quiet, nervously wringing her hands. _She had to tell Jon. She had to._ On the other hand, he would probably hate her. And she was not sure if she could live with that. She looked down to her hands, then up to Stannis. He was waiting for an answer, but her lips felt like they were unable to move. What was she supposed to say? Yes, so she could leave and lie to her husband for the rest of their lives? Or no, and have Stannis murder her at the next given occasion and risk losing Jon where she had not even gained him completely yet? She felt the tears rising to her eyes, trying to blink them away. What kind of a stupid situation did she get herself into again?

Stannis seemed to take her silence as an agreement, since he turned to the table and poured them two drinks. Without a word, he thrust the cup into her hand and took a deep sip himself. “I am glad that issue is settled.”

Still silently, Melisandre took a small sip herself. “So you want me to lie to Jon?”

Stannis shrugged. “It is not lying when you simply never mention it.”

Her fingers played with the cup in her hands. “It is lying. Maybe not for you, but for me it is.”

To her surprise, he laughed at the words. “That boy really gave you a conscience!”

She frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He took another sip of blood. “The Melisandre I knew did not care whether or not lying was good or bad. She would have done that for me without questioning.”

“I did care, you just never gave me a chance to insist”, she muttered back, hands still turning the cup around with her fingers. The metal felt warm against the coldness of her skin. From the corners of her eyes, she saw him approaching her once again. This time, she did not shift backwards. She looked up from her hands. “I won’t say anything, but I will not do it for you!”

Stannis frowned. “Who else would take advantage from that?”

She bit her lip. “Jon would not trust me anymore if he knew.” It sounded like a weak justification, but actually it was the only reason she was agreeing. At least that was what she liked to believe. She hated the thought of doing this for Stannis. Still letting him pull her strings. _Why did she always do exactly what he wanted?_

Her words seemed to amuse him, oddly enough. “Does he trust you now? I thought he was rather skeptical.”

Melisandre crossed her arms in front of her chest, letting her cup rest on the table. “So?” she replied, defensively. “We are getting there.” Not that it was any of Stannis’ business, but she was not sure of what to say instead. And she felt the need to justify her decision. Show him that this was not about him. _Because it wasn’t._

Stannis looked even more amused. “Fascinating, truly”, he commented, finishing his drink and placing his cup on the table as well. “Fascinating to watch how you do the same mistake twice in a row and entirely fail to notice.”

Melisandre frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“ _That_ is supposed to mean that whenever someone gives you a second more of his attention than usual you fall in love with him.”

Her jaw dropped at the words. “What? I am not-” she interrupted herself, since she was not certain of what to say. What was he even trying to imply? She swallowed hard, searching for the right answer. Unfortunately, there did not seem to be one. So she chose silence instead.

Stannis smiled, the way he always smiled when he was mocking her. That seemed to be one of his favorite free time occupations. “You are not what? In love with your husband? Or in love with me?”

She grinned her teeth, nervously playing with her fingers. What was she supposed to answer to that? “I am not in love with you”, was all she could think of, leaving the bit about Jon to be dealt with later. That was not something to be discussed with Stannis.

She watched Stannis approach her further, wondering what he had not quite understood about what she had just said. She was about to say something, but Stannis silenced her with his lips on hers. For a moment, she was to surprised to withdraw. Out of a habit, she returned the kiss, before realizing what she was actually doing.

Quickly, she took a few steps back. “Did you hear what I just said?” she snapped, trying to regulate her breathing. _Why did she always get into this kind of situations?_

Stannis obviously did not plan on answering, since he was simply pouring himself a drink and ignoring her, smiling to himself in amusement.

Melisandre felt the strong need to strangle him. “Do I really have to remind you that I am married after you married me off?”

Stannis shrugged, taking a sip of blood. “I do remember that you are married. However, that does not mean that I care.”

“Wow”, she muttered to herself, trying to not roll her eyes. _Really great._ “I am leaving now”, she added, more loudly so he would hear.

“Remember our talk!” she heard him say as she left through one of the windows, trying to leave the house behind her as fast as possible.

The last thing she wanted was to think about what had just happened. And what was about to happen, since she had to lie. _She hated herself._


	9. The Third King

She had been hoping that Jon would be asleep when she jumped onto the windowsill and opened the window quietly, but unfortunately he was not. He sat up in his bed as she climbed inside, careful to not make a noise.

“There you are”, he greeted her, looking over to the clock on the wall. “You’re late.”

She bit her lip. What was she supposed to answer to that? “I know, I’m sorry”, she replied quickly, getting out of her heels and throwing them into one of the corners.

Jon frowned slightly. He hated her making a mess in his room. “What took you so long?” he wanted to know, leaning back in his pillows, while watching her trying to open the back zipper of her dress. “You need help with that?”

“I’m fine”, she muttered, trying one last time, before rolling her eyes and nodding. “Yes, I do.” She walked over to him and sat down on the bed, so he could open the dress. It gave her more time to think about an answer. “I didn’t find anyone to eat”, she finally said, standing up and getting out of her dress. Only in her underwear she walked over to the drawer and searched for one of Jon’s shirts, being well aware of how he followed her with his eyes. “What did you do while I was gone?” she wanted to know, slipping into a black shirt of his. “Missing me?”

He laughed. “Terribly.”

She pouted. “Why the irony?” Grinning a little, she walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. “Any news on the war front? Have you found Margaery who ever?” She was careful with the questions, but she was certain he trusted her by now.

Jon sighed. “No. The clans have searched the whole city, but she is gone. Robb left town to check if she is with her brother Loras.”

“And where is Loras?” Melisandre asked, lying down and resting her head on one of the pillows.

“Somewhere out of town with Renly Baratheon, they are traveling or whatever.”

Something about hearing the name of Stannis’ brother made Melisandre frown. “The Tyrell guy and Stannis’ brother are friends?”

Jon shrugged. “I guess so, why? Has Stannis never told you?”

“No he hasn’t”, she muttered, slowly wondering if he had even told her anything ever. Was she ever truly his adviser? Or always only the girl he could use for entertainment?

Jon seemed to notice the change in her expression. “You alright?”

She looked up to him quickly. “Yes, sure. But let’s not speak about Stannis anymore. It’s ruining the mood.”

He laughed. “Okay, no more talk about him.” He smiled a little. “Then maybe you could tell me what you really did all night out.”

She looked at him in surprise. “What?”

“You’re a terrible liar”, Jon commented, raising his eyebrows. “So, where were you? Another top secret meeting with Stannis?”

_If only he knew how right he was._ “I told you where I was!” Melisandre repeated, sitting up slightly, so their faces were on the same level. “And I am a great liar.” 

Jon sighed. “I don’t want to be annoying, but I don’t like the thought of you keeping things from me. There’s no need for that.” Their eyes met for a moment. “I mean it.”

Melisandre swallowed, shifting slightly backwards. She was debating what to do, since she was obviously running out of moves. Usually, people did not detect when she was lying. She was not sure why Jon made her so easily. “It’s nothing, really”, she tried again, smiling. “Everything’s fine.”

He still did not look convinced, but before he could say anything else, she decided to do her usually very successful strategy and just leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss. Their tongues played around for a moment, as Melisandre shifted closer onto his lap. She was aware what he had said about the wedding night, but he had never said making out was forbidden. And he did seem to enjoy it, since he made to attempt to break it off. His fingers traced along the lines of her spine, pulling the shirt up and moving across her bare skin. Her hands were in his hair, nails scrapping along the lines of his neck and throat. She could feel the warmth of his body against the coldness of her own skin.

Eventually, their lips parted, bodies still pressed together.

“That was not an answer”, Jon muttered against her lips, breathing heavily.

She only smiled. “But it was better than an answer, wasn’t it?”

J on sighed. “Mel, I’m serious. Why are you keeping secrets from me?” 

She bit her lip slightly. She was beginning to think that she had tell him half of the truth unless she wanted him to keep asking all day. Uncertainly, she shifted a little on his lap. “Maybe I haven’t told you everything I did today”, she began, slowly. “But you might be mad when I tell you where I’ve been.”

He frowned, enclosing her hands with his. “I won’t. Just tell me.”

She sighed deeply. “Ever heard of Petyr Baelish? Littlefinger?”

“Yeah, sure”, Jon nodded. “What about him?” He did sound a little worried by now.

There was a short moment of silence. “I went to see him today.” Her voice was more quiet than before, the insecurity clearly audible.

Jon’s eyes were floating with confusion. “Why would you see Petyr Baelish?” he wanted to know. He was still holding her hands, giving Melisandre a little more confidence.

“I wanted to know something about Ygritte.” She watched his eyes change slightly, already afraid of what he might say.

For a few seconds, he remained silent. Then he nodded slowly. “Okay, why?”

She shrugged. “I might have been a little… insecure after you told me about her?”

Surprisingly, he smiled at the words. “Insecure?”

Melisandre bit her lip. “Well, you didn’t want to sleep with me because of her so I guess  it was not totally unjustified.” 

Jon sighed. “Ygritte is not the reason I want to wait.”

“Then I don’t understand”, Melisandre muttered, still feeling the slight bit of jealousy from before. She did not quite believe his words yet.

“I just want it to be special”, he replied. “You don’t need to be insecure or whatever, okay?”

She nodded slowly. “But it doesn’t need to be special. It’s only sex. We’re married already anyway.”

Jon laughed. “Well, it doesn’t have to be only sex. It can be about feelings, you know.”

Melisandre frowned, thinking about the words. So he really wanted to wait until he had fallen in love with her? It was a cute idea in theory, but not so cute in reality. Still, she nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled. “Did your visit at Littlefinger’s made you feel any better?”

She rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Why not?” he wanted to know, slightly amused.

“She had red hair”, Melisandre muttered, biting her lip. “That did not exactly made me feel better.”

Jon sighed, leaning forward and kissing her for a moment. A shiver went down her spine as he withdrew. “There’s no reason at all for you to feel insecure, okay?”

She smiled slightly. “Okay.” Somehow, him being so sweet made her feel a lot more bad about her still having to lie. If he ever found out all the things she was keeping from him, he would truly hate her.

To stop her thoughts, she joined their lips once again, tongue playing with his. She was truly hoping that they could have a real shot.

 

-

 

The soft light of the stars fell through the window into the small room, whose walls were covered in books and whose air was smelling like dust and old paper. The gentle crackling of pages was to be heard, as Renly Baratheon turned the page of the book he was just reading. _The song of Achilles._

Loras was sitting not far from him, only the old wooden table separating the two. He was checking his phone, the display glowing lightly in the semidarkness. “Margaery wants to know if you have made a decision yet”, he finally broke the silence. “She is getting impatient. The Starks and Lannisters are looking for her.”

Renly closed the book. “I think I might read this one again.”

The other rolled his eyes. “This is a serious matter, Renly. The futures of our families is at stake!”

Renly frowned. “Your family’s future is at stake, not mine! Stannis is winning.” He put the book down on the table, taking a sip from his half filled glass of blood. “And I wish him no harm. Why would I turn on him now?”

“Renly Baratheon, King of the Underworld”, Loras smiled. “Wouldn’t you like the sound of that? With Margaery as your wife and our army at your back you could have it.” He got up from his chair, walking over to Renly. “You would make a great king.”

He laughed slightly at the words. It was a pleasant thought, truly, thinking about himself on the throne. And no one would expect him to join the fight now, especially not Stannis… he and his brother had never had the best of relations anyway, since Stannis was not particularly font of any sort of interaction with any other person than that personal bodyguard he always kept at his house, Davos something. “You think I could make it?” he asked Loras, who was now standing in front of him, leaned against the table.

“Of course”, he replied, smiling. “Margaery would be delighted. She had a sense for politics.”

Renly leaned back in his chair. The idea had never crossed his mind before today, but he liked the thought of it more with each moment. If he was honest, Stannis was not fit to be king. He had a tragically boring personality, nobody liked him, but he, Renly… he was charming and good looking and everyone who spoke more than two words with him found themselves to like him. The people would love him. He could renew the Underworld. Slowly, he looked up to Loras. “Tell Margaery I am agreeing. Plan the wedding for as soon as possible, but let no one know yet. I want them to be surprised when we strike for the first time.”

Loras nodded slowly, a content smile on his lips. “As my king commands.” He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Renly’s lips. “I’ll see you later.”

The sound of the door falling shut echoed through the room for a moment, as Renly took another sip from his half empty glass. _Renly Baratheon, King of the Underworld._ That did indeed sound very good.


	10. Falling

The sun had already risen when Margaery met Renly and her brother in the dining hall to discuss the further strategy. The windows were all shut by blinds, the room only illuminated by candles. A huge can of blood sat in the middle of the table, with three cups around it. The two men were already seated as she entered the room, so she chose the chair at the head of the table.

“I’m glad you agreed”, she smiled to Renly, pouring herself a glass of blood. The salty small filled the air instantly.

Her future husband returned the smile, but his eyes shifted to her brother. “Loras persuaded me”, he replied, taking a sip from his own cup.

 _Oh I bet he did._ Margaery had noticed the tension between the two of them instantly and it had not taken her too long to figure out that they were in fact a couple. A clever move from Stannis, perhaps. Or maybe only a coincidence.

“We should return to the city instantly”, Loras said now. “Deal with Cersei Lannister first and then concentrate on Stannis. Her army is smaller, easy to defeat.” He leaned back in his chair. “The wolves could be a bit of a problem, but I’m sure we can persuade them to join our cause once Stannis is lost.”

Margaery frowned a little at the words. Her brother was young and reckless and far to eager to fight. The Tyrell army was big, but so was the Lannister army. She had spend enough time in Cersei’s council to know that. “We should be more careful in the beginning”, she commented, watching Renly stare deeply into his cup. “We have the advantage of them not knowing that they have another enemy, let us keep that for a while longer!”

Renly sighed, rolling his eyes a little. War strategy did not seem to be his biggest interest.

“We should start by attacking some of Cersei’s and Stannis’ people randomly, make them wonder what is going on. Playing them out against each other”, Margaery continued. “It is the best plan”, she urged.

Her brother did not look the most convinced, but he nodded. “You are the one with the experience in a war council, you decide.”

She smiled, now looking to Renly. “Your grace?” she asked, an extra bit of sweetness in her voice. “Do you agree?”

Renly shrugged. “Yes, sure.” He finished his drink in one sip, already getting up from his chair. “If that is all, I take my leave now.” He smiled over to Loras one last time, before turning around and leaving the room without another word.

Margaery’s eyes traveled to her brother, questions arising in her head. “You are sure he is the right fit for a king?”

Loras frowned. “Why wouldn’t he? He will be an excellent king. There is no need for him to take part in a council once he is king.”

“Well, he is not king yet”, Margaery muttered, taking a sip of blood. “I only want to make sure we joined the right cause. And that you don’t let yourself be blinded by your feelings.”

Her brother quickly raised his cup, escaping her eyes. Then he got up as well. “Renly is the best candidate for the throne, you’ll see that for yourself.” He nervously ran his hand through his light brown hair. “I will notify our army, send out a few of them to the city like you proposed.” He left the room with quick step, obviously running away from her question.

Margaery sighed, finishing her drink by herself. _There was a storm coming, and neither Cersei nor Stannis had any idea what was waiting for them._

 

-

 

It was noon when Melisandre heard the first hectic movement throughout the house, quick steps, loud voices, fast heart rates. Something had happened, obviously, but unfortunately she was bound to stay in the room unless she wanted to be fried by the sun outside.

And so she listened, even though she usually avoided that. But she was still a spy, and sooner or later Stannis would demand information from her. The thought of it made her sick, but she did it all the same. What choice was there, anyway?

Eddard Starks voice was the loudest, heavily discussing something with his son Robb. The words attack and Cersei Lannister were the most clear to understand, since they talked too fast that she could really make out every words. They seemed to argue about how to act now, the name Stannis being mentioned a few times. Melisandre began to become a little worried. Had something happened? She hated that she was stuck in that stupid room.

Annoyed, she sat up in the bed and played with the sheets for a moment, since the argument had ended for a moment. She was wearing one of Jon’s shirts, a huge black one which made the paleness of her skin stand out even more. Her fingers stroke over the fabric of the skin, which smelled like Jon’s after shave. She would never admit it, but she loved the way it smelled. It made her feel comfortable when she spend the days in his bed waiting for the sun to disappear.

Suddenly, there were steps on the stairs. It was Jon, obviously, she was used to the sound of his steps by now. Melisandre let herself sink back into the sheets, waiting for him to reach the second floor. He was walking so slowly, it was nearly killing her. How did he have the patience for being so slow? Her eyes moved to the ceiling, then back to the door. As much as she loved being a vampire, that whole thing of being sensitive to sunlight was getting on her nerves.

Finally, the door opened and Jon entered, sighing as he closed the door.

Melisandre sat up. “Did something happen?”

To her surprise, he laughed at the words. “I thought you told me you wouldn’t be listening.”

She smiled. “I have to when you scream through the entire house.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “A few of Stannis men have been attacked an hour ago. They are all dead. We think it might have been Cersei Lannister.”

She frowned. “So? Where’s the big problem? Why was there such an argument?”

“Three of Cersei’s men have also been killed. By Stannis, probably. Robb went over to talk to him now.”

Melisandre leaned back against the pillows. Something did not quite make sense, but she was not certain what it was. “What do you plan on doing?” she wanted to know.

Jon shrugged. “I don’t know, Robb and father will figure it out.”

She bit her lip. The thought of the war starting now was making her feel nervous. However, something else was bothering her. “How far apart did the attacks happen today?”

“A few minutes, half an hour, I’m not sure. Not too long.” He frowned. “Why does that matter?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, fingers playing with the shirt. “How did Stannis’ men know about the previous attack when it had just happened a few minutes before? And why was their first thought to start an attack themselves instead of informing Stannis?” Somehow, the whole chain of events was not adding up. There was something they were missing here, one piece of the puzzle.

Jon did not seem to share that thought, though. “It was perhaps only a coincidence, I don’t know. What does it matter, anyway? It had to be Cersei, who else could it be? It had to be one of Stannis’ and Cersei’s enemies.”

 _Yes, who else could it be?_ There was a weird feeling in her stomach as she thought about it. Who else was profiting from rivaling vampires being ripped apart? “Have you heard from Margaery Tyrell?” she wanted to know, only out of an intuition.

He seemed to be confused. “What does she have to do with anything?”

Melisandre shrugged. “I was just wondering if you have located her.”

Jon shook his head. “We haven’t. But maybe Jaime Lannister has, and she’s dead in the ground somewhere.”  
_Probably not._ “What if she is the one behind this?” Melisandre was not too sure why she thought this, but suddenly she was really convinced that she was right. Margaery had enough reason to harm Cersei as well as Stannis. Jon did not know the latter, obviously, so she had to be careful. Stannis’ failed alliance with Margaery was to remain a secret.

Her husband though about her words for a moment. “Why would she do such a thing? An alliance with Stannis would be much more profitable for her.”

She bit her lip. If only he knew. But she had to talk to Stannis as soon as she could. She hesitated a moment. “Any plans for tonight?” she then asked. “Another meeting with Robb and your father?”

Jon nodded. “I think so, I’m sorry.”

She smiled. “I’ll better go out so I don’t get accused of spying again.” He had just provided her with an excellent excuse to leave.

Suddenly, there was a slight change in his eyes. Worry, she liked to think. “But you’re careful when you’re in the city, right?”

Melisandre could not help the smile. “You know me, careful is my middle name.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Her jaw dropped a little at the words, for a moment she was speechless. It was very silent for a few seconds.

Jon seemed to notice her surprise. “What?” he wanted to know. “I know you can take care of yourself, it’s just-”

She interrupted him. “That’s not it.” She had to swallow. “That was just the first time someone ever said that to me.” Quickly, she looked down onto her hands, trying to hide her smile.

There was another moment of silence. He seemed to search for the right words. Finally, he continued to speak. “I care about you”, was all he said.

Slowly, she looked up again, carefully meeting his eyes. That had been a first time, too. No one had ever told her that either. At least not as far as she remembered.

They were still holding eye contact, she found herself unable to look away. It was as if something was forcing her to continue looking into his eyes, so dark gray that they almost seemed black. As if some invisible force was holding the two of them together. Very slowly, Jon leaned forward and this time, the kiss was different. It was not like the day before, it was not making out. It felt like more than just that. Perhaps this had been what Jon had meant when he had talked about feelings the day before, maybe this was what he wanted. In that moment, it felt like it was.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and the bubble around them seemed to burst. Melisandre withdrew quickly, their eyes meeting one last time. Jon got up from the bed to open the door, as she covered herself in the sheets again. Her thoughts were all messed up, she felt like they were all over the place. Her eyes shifted to the door as it opened and Jon left the room.

She heard him talking to Robb on the hallway outside, but she was too distracted to listen clearly. Nervously, she was biting her lip and her fingers were almost trembling. What had that been? Her nails moved along the lines of her shirt, inhaling the light smell of aftershave. The sheets smelled like him, too, but there was also the hint of rosewood from her own perfume. It was a lovely combination, if she was honest. She heard two pairs of steps on the stairs, Jon and Robb were going downstairs. Somehow, she was glad he was leaving. It gave her some time to think.

Her eyes found the ceiling once again, moving across the whiteness. With Stannis, it had never been like this. It had been nice, yes, but not like this. This had been a different kind of nice. _Nicer_ , perhaps. What was she supposed to do know? The new feeling was too much for her, she wasn’t able to think properly. Uncertainly, she sat up again. Maybe waiting was the best plan for now. Waiting what might happen next. She wondered if falling in love, really falling in love, was really as scary as it felt right now. Because if it was, she was not sure if she really wanted it.


	11. Betrayal

“What’s so important?” Jon wanted to know, following Robb downstairs. His brother looked serious, his expression was stern. The argument with their father earlier might have been a reason for that grim look.

They reached the ground floor, but Robb continued walking, until they reached the front door. “Can we talk outside, for a moment?”

Jon frowned, but nodded and followed his brother outside. “Is something wrong?” he asked, slightly alarmed by now.

Robb closed the door behind them, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t want her to listen.”

It was obvious that he meant Melisandre, but what was not obvious was why he would say such a thing. Jon sighed quietly. “She’s not the enemy, Robb.”

His brother clenched his jaw a little. “About that I am not so sure.” There was a short pause, in which he seemed to be searching for the right words. “Before Margaery Tyrell disappeared, she went to see Stannis. Probably proposed an alliance.”

A moment of silence followed the words. Jon was too surprised to answer. He did not quite get what that had to do with Melisandre. “How do you know?” he asked, just to clarify the topic a little.

“One of the Karstark’s saw her leave that night. He had never seen her before so he did not recognize her back then but today he saw her picture in the paper and came forward.” Robb frowned deeply. “That means Stannis lied to us. He rejected an alliance with the Tyrell’s without asking us. We can not trust him anymore.”

Jon nodded slowly. “What does that have to do with Melisandre?”

His brother sighed. “You don’t really think she knew nothing of this? She was loyal to Stannis for two years, she won’t stop now!” He hesitated for a moment. “I believe – and so does father – that they are in on this together.”

He thought about Robb’s words for a few seconds. And he remembered her reaction when he had asked about Margaery, about Stannis, and how she had claimed she had never heard the name. He had known that it had been a lie, but he never thought this far. Was she really only here as an informant for Stannis? Had this been his plan all along? Suddenly, all the times he had thought her to lie came back to his mind. All the times she had changed the topic or tried to distract him so he would stop asking. It seemed to make sense, out of a sudden. Still, he was not entirely convinced.

“What would be the endgame of Stannis’ plan? Why would he need an informant in the first place?” he asked, looking over to Robb. “Why all of this?”

His brother frowned. “So you think we might be right? That she knew about Stannis and Margaery?”

Jon shrugged. The thought of it made him feel sad. “I don’t know. Might be.” Suddenly, he remembered what Melisandre had said earlier about Margaery. She had proposed that she had been behind the attacks in the city, which only made sense if Margaery had reason to harm both Cersei and Stannis. If Stannis had rejected her, she had more than enough reason. It made sense that Melisandre knew, seeing the whole picture. So she had been working with Stannis all along. A strange feeling filled him, it might have been jealousy. She had said that her feelings for Stannis had vanished. But maybe that had been just another lie.

His brother interrupted Jon’s thoughts. “We need to find out what Stannis’ goal is.”

Jon nodded slowly. In that moment, we wanted nothing more than to leave. Forget what he had just heard. Go back to how things were before.

“Do you think you can get her to talk?” Robb wanted to know now.

He shrugged. “No idea.”

His brother sighed. “Because if not, you can’t tell her what we know. We can not risk Stannis finding out that we discovered his little secret. This alliance is important, especially after those attacks today.”

For a second, he considered telling Robb about Melisandre’s idea. But after all what he had just heard, he didn’t. That might have been a lie planted by Stannis as well, to draw attention away from him. There was a long silence, in which he considered the possibilities. Did he have a chance to reach her? Earlier this day, he would have said yes. Now he was not sure anymore. But he surely could not face her and lie to her everyday.

“If you could persuade her to betray Stannis, she could be really helpful”, Robb continued. “At least if Stannis did not know that she was not his informant anymore.”

Jon shook his head, not sure of what to do anymore.

His brother seemed to understand. “Don’t go talk to her before you have decided, okay?” he said, before lightly patting Jon’s shoulder and disappearing to the inside of the house, leaving his brother alone with his thoughts.

Sighing, Jon leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. What was he supposed to do now? He didn’t want to lose her. That was the last thing he wanted. Whatever it was what they had, he wanted to keep it. On the other hand he was not sure if he could trust her again, even if she started being honest with him. _How could he ever be certain?_

 

_-_

 

It was shortly after 8 when Melisandre climbed out of Jon’s window and carefully balanced on the windowsill, to close it behind her. Jon had not returned after he had left the house with Robb and she was not sure if that was a good or a bad thing. What did they have to discuss, anyway? And why did they do it outside? Without making a sound, she climbed onto the roof of the mansion and walked along the rain gutter, scanning the surrounding area for signs of Jon. She did not see him, though, so she thought he must have left. She had no idea where he could have gone but he had certainly not returned to the house, she would have heard him.

The moon had not yet risen so the sky was still pretty dark, clouds traveling along the sky and a few stars already shining palely. On the horizon, a few scatters of clouds were still colored red, since the sun had not yet set entirely. It was a beautiful picture, honestly, with the trees gently moving in the wind and the high buildings of the city standing out against the horizon. Everything looked peaceful.

Softly, Melisandre landed on the grass behind the mansion, beginning to make her way in the city’s direction. In the dim light, the Starks would hopefully not notice her. Jon did not seem to miss her either, so it probably did not matter anyway. She was really wondering where he had gone. And what Robb had told him. Somehow, she had a strange feeling about this. Never before had he just disappeared like this. He had always told her where he had gone. She could have asked Robb, but he had been busy talking to Eddard about strategies and other boring things and she didn’t want to interrupt them.

Stannis’ mansion came soon into view, most of the windows dark, but the library and dining hell weakly illuminated. She made her way around the house and stopped in front of one of the ground floor windows, pushing it open and climbing inside. The room was dark and as empty as expected, so she made her way over to the library, in which she thought Stannis to be. Usually he spent his evening there reading one book after the other, until he eventually got bored and left for a hunt.

As she opened the door and entered the huge room with all the bookshelves and the huge set of candles on the table in the middle of the room, Stannis looked up from his book.

He seemed genuinely surprised to see her. “You were the last person I expected to come here tonight.” He put the book down. It was Homer’s Iliad, one of Stannis’ favorite books. He had once forced her to read it too, but she had always found it tedious. She was much more fond of the other Greek myths.

Melisandre looked around, listening through the house, if Davos was there somewhere. It did not seem that way, but she was not too sure. “Are we alone?”

Stannis frowned. “Yes.”

“The attacks today. I’m convinced it was Margaery Tyrell.”

His eyebrows arched up. “Margaery Tyrell?”

Melisandre nodded. “It would only make sense.” She could see that he did not believe her, of course not. He had never valued her advice. Why had she even come to tell him? “But of course you don’t believe me”, she stated, more a statement than a question.

Stannis smiled an amused smile. “Do you have any proof?”

“No”, she replied, frowning. “But it is only logical.”

He only sighed. “You should learn to tell fantasy and logic apart.”

Melisandre nodded slowly. At least she had tried. “Were the Starks here this morning? About the attacks?”

Stannis got up from his chair, taking the Iliad with him and beginning to sort it back into the shelf to the other books. He had sorted all of his books alphabetically by name, so he would always find all of them without searching for them. They were also sorted by language, since he preferred to read in Latin. The Iliad was also in Latin, something that Melisandre had always hated. Her Latin was quite alright, but it took her an eternity to read it.

“The boy was here shortly, yes”, Stannis replied, still standing in front of his book shelf, his red eyes scanning the books in front of him. Finally, he turned away and returned to the table, but remained standing. “I convinced him that everything is fine and I am going to take care of it.”

She nodded slowly. “And did you? Take care of it?”

Stannis shrugged. “That is a matter for another day.” He approached her. “Drink?”

“No”, she muttered, slightly rolling her eyes. She hated how he was always changing the topic. “Don’t you think it is a matter for today? It could mean that the war is starting.” She was seriously wondering how he could stay so calm in spite of all this.

Stannis only poured himself a glass of blood, acting like he had not heard her last words. The scarlet liquid gleamed in the candlelight. He offered her the glass, but she shook her head. She was not in the mood for drinking. And she knew very well that it was only a matter of distracting her. For him, however, the conversation seemed to over anyway, since he made no more attempts to give her an answer.

“I think it’s time for me to leave”, Melisandre commented, already on the verge of turning around, but he held her back.

“How’s your husband?” he asked, taking a sip from his glass.

There was a certain kind of undertone that she really did not like and that caused her to stop. “He’s great”, she replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Why would you care?” There was a hidden meaning behind the question, but she was not yet sure what it was.

But Stannis only leaned back in his chair, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Just simple curiosity.”

There was a moment of silence, where she thought he might say something else, but he remained quiet, only turning the glass in his hands. Eventually, she turned to leave. “Don’t say I did not warn you when Margaery Tyrell stands on your doorstep.” Without another word, she left the library, the door loudly falling shut behind her.

Without any further hesitation, she climbed through the window and left the house quietly. But even thought she was sure she had made no sound, for a second there was something like the sound of footsteps near her. The scanned the darkness around her, but there was no one in sight. Frowning, she looked up to the roof, but there was nothing unusual. Maybe it had only been a rabbit or a mouse. Their heartbeats were so weak that she did not hear those. Still a little alarmed, she began to make her way back to the Stark mansion, turning around and looking behind her a few times. Once, she even thought to have seen a slight shadow, but it was gone faster than a heartbeat. Perhaps her imagination was playing a trick on her.

As she reached the mansion, the light in Jon’s room was on, meaning he had returned by now. She stopped for a moment, biting her lip, hesitating if she should go in. She decided to do so, finally, further approaching the house. The feeling of being watched was gone, fortunately, which made her feel a lot better. She looked up to the illuminated window, already able to hear Jon’s heart beating. The sound was oddly soothing, somehow, and surprisingly made her feel better after the conversation with Stannis.


	12. Resolution

 

Cersei awaited him in the dining hall as Jaime entered the Lannister mansion, quietly closing the door behind him and stepping into the room.

His sister looked up from her glass of blood. “You’re late”, she commented, skipping the greeting. The accusation was not even hidden.

Jaime ignored her undertone. “I followed her, just like you asked me to.”

Cersei raised her eyebrows. “So? What did you find out?”

He sat down on the chair in front of her, pouring himself a drink as well. “She went to see Stannis today, they did some talking and then she returned. She sees Stannis quite often, I gotta say.”

“That was to be expected”, Cersei answered, not particularly intrigued yet. “Anything else?”

He smiled. “Oh yes.” There was a short pause. “She went to see Petyr Baelish a few days ago. Asked him about her husband’s dead girlfriend.”

His sister showed no reaction.

“You might remember her, red hair? A wolf? Murdered?” he tried, but it did not seem to ring a bell. That was weird, somehow, since he had been accused of the murder for so long. In fact, he could not have cared less about the Starks at that point of time.

Cersei simply shrugged. “So? What’s the important part?”

Jaime sighed, but continued. “She found out who killed that girl back then.”

He waited for a reaction, but she only frowned. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?” she snapped, causing him to roll his eyes.

“It was Stannis”, he replied, since she did not seem to appreciate him trying to create a certain tension.

Cersei’s jaw dropped. Then her lips formed a smile. “ _Oh_ ”, she mused, leaning back in her chair and taking a huge sip of blood. The liquid covered her lips in a thin red film. “Quite the interesting development.”   
Jaime nodded. “I don’t think her husband would know about that. Something we could use for our advantage.”

“Unless she tells him”, his sister suggested, placing the empty cup on the table and getting up from her chair. Slowly, with silent steps, she crossed the room and stopped in front of the huge wall of book shelves at the other end of the room, searching for one specific book. Her pale fingers wrapped around a brown cover and pulling it out of the shelf. The title was engraved in golden letters, shining in the candle light. It matched Cersei’s hair. _The Iliad,_ it said on the front.

Jaime frowned at the book, wondering why Cersei felt the urge to read in the middle of their conversation.

But instead of opening the book, her eyes were fixed on the cover. “You have read it too, haven’t you? Back then when we were kids? I remember you always hated it.”

He shrugged slightly. If he was honest, he did not remember much of the plot anymore. He had only read it because his father had forced him. Classic literature was a must to Tywin Lannister.

His sister’s eyes examined him carefully. “In the Iliad, it is Eris who starts the Trojan War, simply by throwing an apple. This little apple leads a whole city to its doom.”

Jaime was still not quite getting the point. “So?”

Cersei looked a little disappointed that he was not able to follow. But then she smiled. “Perhaps we only need to find our apple.”

He nodded slowly. “And you are thinking this could be our apple?”

“What do you think would happen if the Stark boy was to suddenly found out his new alliance partner had his fiance killed?” Cersei mused, placing the Iliad on the table. The light of the candles was reflecting in the golden letters.

Considering this option, Jaime nodded, sitting down on the chair Cersei had sat on earlier. “But how do we actually make him find out? We can not just go over and tell him.”

His sister rolled his eyes. “I am aware of that.” The smile was still on her lips. “We need a strategy, but once we have it, it will all be easy. The Starks will break the alliance and go after Stannis and the dominoes will keep on falling, until only we are left in the world.” She looked down onto the book, the light of the candles burning in her eyes. “ _A deathless goddess_ ”, she whispered. “ _So she strikes our eyes_.”

 

-

 

Silently, Melisandre landed on the window sill, pushing the glass up and climbing inside the room. She made no sound, but somehow Jon had still heard her, since his eyes were already on her as she jumped from the sill onto the floor.

“Hey”, she greeted carefully, pulling the window shut and quickly adjusting her dress, since the fabric was barely covering her tights anymore. She searched for his eyes, but he looked away to quick.

“Where have you been?” he wanted to know, voice a lot colder than the last time they had spoken.

She was instantly wondering what Robb had told him. “Hunting”, she replied, slipping out of her heels and tossing them into one of the corners. “And where have you been?” she added then, watching him get up from the bed he had been sitting on. “You left and didn’t come back.”

Jon clenched his jaw slightly, his face muscles looking tense. “We had some business to sort out.” There was a long moment of silence, before he turned away and made his way to the door.

Melisandre frowned. “Where are you going?” There was a slight panic in her chest, as if the thought of him leaving made her body hurt physically. Which was impossible, of course. Still, the feeling remained.

He only shrugged. “Downstairs.” His voice had a weird undertone, something she had not heard on him before. It made her heart sink.

Quickly, she slipped between him and the door, leaning her back against it, so he could not open it. “Is something wrong?” she asked, even though she was afraid of the answer. Actually, she was not even sure if she was ready to hear it. Then again, she was dying to know why he was behaving like this.

Jon, however, only rolled his eyes and tried to gently push her away, but since she was a lot stronger than him, it did not quite work. “Everything is fine”, he replied, impatiently.

But she could see that it was not. Earlier this day, the look in his eyes when he looked at her had been different. Now, there was not much of any emotion in the darkness of his iris. She hated that she could not read his face. Usually she always could.

“Where have you and Robb been?” she repeated her question from before, hoping to maybe get an answer this time.

But he only crossed his arms in front of his chest and took a step back. She could almost feel the sudden absence of the warmth of his body. Instead of an answer, he returned the question. “Where have _you_ been?” he wanted to know. “Because hunting is not the most convincing excuse.”

Melisandre swallowed. “It’s not an excuse. And you’re changing the topic.”

“So are you all the time”, he countered. “I’m only playing with your rules.”

She frowned a little. “If you have a problem, can you please just say it? Because then we would have the opportunity to solve it.”

He escaped her looks, turning away and beginning to cross the room, stopping in front of the window. “I don’t think this one can be solved.”

Slowly, Melisandre began to suspect what this problem might be, what Robb might have told him. _Oh please no._ “What did Robb tell you?” she asked slowly, voice almost shaking. She was biting her lip with so much force that she might draw blood if she was human. She was not, however. So no blood.

There was another long, uncomfortable silence, before Jon turned around. The moonlight was reflecting on his face. “Who have you visited?” was all he said. A simple question. A simple answer. Not so simple to actually say it out loud.

She was still leaning against the door, the wood cool against the skin of her back. She wanted him to forgive her. She wanted him to kiss her and tell her that everything would be fine and that they would solve this, together. And she hated herself for wanting that. Because it was weak and it would never happen. Their eyes met for a second. Melisandre made her decision. “You first”, she answered quietly. “What did he tell you?”

The question hang in the air for a few heartbeats, almost taunting them. Then Jon nodded slowly. “He told me that one of our guys saw Margaery Tyrell leave Stannis’ mansion before she went into hiding. And that he believes that you are Stannis’ informant. That you knew about all of this.”

The words seemed to reach her ears incredibly slowly, as the sentence finished she waited for him to continue, but he never did. She waited for him to scream at her how she had known who had killed Ygritte all along, but he didn’t. And somehow, that made it all worse. Because he didn’t know. And now she was faced with the decision whether to tell him or to hold it back, to lie to him once more. She was not able to meet his eyes.

“So, where have you been?” Jon asked, voice cool and distant. She would have preferred anger, if she was honest. “Off to see Stannis?”

She could not look away from her hands. “Yes”, she replied, the question still clouding her mind. _She had to tell him._ But she couldn’t. There was so much distance in his eyes already, she could not bear to see that turn into hate. Perhaps it was the most selfish thing she had ever done. Perhaps she would pay for that mistake one day. But she did not say it. She stayed silent.

Jon had remained silent for a moment, after her answer. “So Robb was right?” he finally broke the quiet.

She rose her head, nodding slightly. She was not capable of doing anything else. There was so much she had wanted to say, thinking about how this moment could happen, but now her mind was just blank. Blank and empty, like he had erased every thought she had once had. Her eyes searched his, but there was only darkness. She was not certain if that was a good or a bad thing.

Jon took a deep breath, she could hear the sound of his lungs absorbing the oxygen. “Was it all a lie?” he wanted to know, voice very quiet.

Of all the questions, this was the one Melisandre had least expected. For a second, she was not certain of what to answer. But then she shook her head, before even knowing that her body had reacted. “No it wasn’t”, she whispered, still biting her lower lip. She was afraid that if she stopped, she might start crying.

“Then why did you do it?” He took a step in her direction, but still maintaining much space. It was as if he was holding himself back from standing to close.

Actually, she had no answer to the question. She really didn’t. So she tried the truth, for once. “I didn’t actually realize it, in the beginning, I think”, she replied, voice a lot steadier than she would have thought. “And when I did it was too late. I never meant to -” she interrupted herself, running out of words. Could anything that she said make it alright again? She was not sure.

A long silence followed, in which Jon only looked out of the window without saying a word. Finally, he turned to look at her again. “Do you want to change it now? Do you want to start being honest with me?”

Melisandre frowned, not answering. She did not quite understand what he was aiming at.

“I’m not trying to pressure you”, he added quickly, noticing the confusion on her face. He took another step in her direction. “I only want to know if you will be on our side from now on.”

There it was. The moment of decision. She opened her mouth, ready to say something, anything, to escape the silence longing in the air around them, but she was not able to do so. What was she supposed to do now? Nervously, she wrung her hands. “I can’t, I mean, Stannis will…” she tried very hard to keep her thoughts in order. “He will not let me go so easily.” She was refusing to believe that it could be this simple, to choose Jon and leave Stannis, to leave that part of her life behind her and start a new one. Usually, life had its way to get back at her.

Jon was hesitating for a moment, but then he crossed the last meters of distance between them and stopped right in front of her, ignoring the surprised look in her eyes, and took her face in his hands. “He doesn’t need to know, at least not now.”

Her ability to think was pretty narrowed when he was standing so close to her but she was still able to find the flaw in that plan. “What if he finds out?” she replied, trying to ignore the shiver which ran down her spine as his fingers moved along her jaw. She hated this. _Why did he have to do this?_ Why wasn’t he angry with her? She was better at coping with anger.

“I’ll protect you. I promise”, he replied, eyes fixed on hers. “You only need to trust me.”

 _Oh she hated this so much._ “Okay”, she nodded, not able to answer anything else. Why did he convince her so easily? When had this happened? She felt the urge to move back, to regain her space, even though she was aware that physical distance would not provide the distance her mind needed right now. The feeling inside her was making her want to run away, escape from whatever he had done to her. Why had she even let him get so close to her?

“We’ll figure it out”, Jon added now, hands still on her face. The warmth of his skin felt soft against the coolness of her cheeks.

Once again, she was only able to nod.

For a moment, she was sure he would kiss her, but instead he simply pressed his lips to her forehead for no more than a second and then withdraw, moving a few steps back. Her body felt cold as his warmth left her, almost empty. Suddenly, there was an incredible tiredness filling her bones. As if the world was crashing around her. Slowly, she let herself sink onto the bed and laid down, eyes on the ceiling. In that moment, she wished nothing more than to be able to sleep. But of course that was impossible.

The mattress was moving a little as Jon said down on its other end. She could feel his eyes on her. “It’s going to be okay.” There was a strange certainty in his voice, where she was not sure where it was coming from.

As she did not reply, he laid down next to her, eyes never leaving her. “When Robb told me that you were spying on us, I was sure that I couldn’t trust you again. That this was the end.”

Melisandre looked over to him in confusion, wondering what he was trying to imply. “What changed your mind?” she asked quietly, shifting a little in the sheets.

He seemed to think about her words for a moment. Before answering, he took a deep breath. “You”, he replied, simply. “You changed my mind.”

Surprise appeared in her face.   
He seemed to be reading the question of her face, since he went on before she could even ask. “I saw you and I thought that you were worth trying again.”

She couldn’t help the smile, even thought she did not feel like it at all. Somehow, the words made her feel warm inside. A strange kind of warm. “I’m _so_ worth trying”, she replied, attempting to break the weird atmosphere hanging in the air.

Jon laughed a little. “Then I’m glad I did it.” He looked over to her and their eyes met and for a second she had the feeling he wanted to say something else, but then he turned away and the moment was gone.

Melisandre pulled the covers over her body. Maybe it was good how it was. And maybe, once in her life, this good would stay.

 


	13. Antagonism

It was very dark that night. If a human had left his house that night and walked along the road which led to Baratheon mansion and if he had walked only inches past the person standing in front of the huge iron gate, he would not have noticed him. The moon was entirely swallowed by the clouds that night, the starlight long died out in the darkness. Thick clouds hang in the air, filling with rain and thunder. The first stroke of lightning gleamed through the air a few kilometers away, welcoming the new era which shall soon be known as the war for the throne of shadows.

A cellphone rang in the darkness, the sound silently making its way through the fabric of the dark brown coat pocket in which it had been placed earlier. It died as the green button was pressed.

“Margaery, what is so important?” Renly’s voice seemed incredibly loud in the utter silence of the night, worried he stepped a little off the road and hid behind the stone wall surrounding his brother’s mansion.

The voice on the other end was all but calm. “Have you lost your mind?” Margaery had trouble controlling herself so she would not start screaming. “We’ve been over this and we said we would wait!”

Renly rolled his eyes. “We have waited. Now it is time to take matters into our hands and deal with Stannis! We have the bigger army, he will surrender and then we only have Cersei left!”

“We do not have the bigger army”, Margaery disagreed. “He has the wolves.”

Renly laughed. “Oh, come on. One talk with the Starks and they will be on our side. Don’t you think they would prefer to be on the winner’s side?” With a silent move, he jumped upwards and landed on top of the stone wall. “But now, my lady, please excuse me, since I have some important business to attend.” With that being said, he hang up. Margaery’s strategies and plans were much too slow for his taste, especially if winning was such an easy game as it was for them. They had the numbers, the strength, and the opportunities.

He approached Baratheon mansion slowly, entering by the backdoor. The house had been their parents, but as the older brother Stannis had inherited it. Shortly before he had send Renly to that boarding school out of town. For that, he had never quite forgiven his brother.

As expected, he found his brother in the library. Stannis had spent the majority of his life studying languages and foreign books and probably spent more times with that than with his brothers. Renly had always been more close to Robert, but since his death he had felt quite alone. He had Loras of course, but it was not the same as with a brother.

Stannis was sitting in his usual chair as Renly entered the library, his back turned to him. He did not notice that he had come in.

There was a moment of silence, in which Renly considered to turn back. There was still time to withdraw from this path. To withdraw from fighting his own brother. The only family that was left for him. “Hello brother”, he broke the silence.

Stannis turned around, very slowly. His dark red eyes were cold and stern, just like they always were. Even when they had been children. “Good evening Renly”, he greeted, putting his book down on the table. “I have been wondering when you would appear here.”

Renly lifted his chin. “There was no way you could have known I was gonna come here.”

Stannis folded his hands in his laps, a superior smile on his lips. “Oh Renly, have I taught you nothing about chess? About strategy?”

“You always refused to play with me. Said I was too stupid to learn it properly.” He was not sure why his brother would bring up this topic just now.

Stannis raised his eyebrows. “Fair enough, I was right. You never had quite the talent for it.” He made a gesture in direction of one of the chairs. “Sit down.”

Simply as a protest, Renly remained standing.

“Very well”, Stannis nodded. “Then stand, it is not that I care much.” There was a moment of silence. “I was surprised when I figured out your little alliance with the Tyrell’s. Smart, I would almost call it. Clever, most definitely.” He sighed, almost disappointed. “Sad that it did not work out.”

Renly gave his best to hide his rising nervousness. “I don’t get what you mean.”

Stannis smiled. “I see. Listen, then. Yesterday, a very concerned friend of mine reached out to me and told me she was convinced the attacks on both mine and Cersei’s men were work of Margaery Tyrell. At first, I must admit, I did not believe her, but after a bit of research and surveillance I figured out she had indeed been right. And I also learned that my own dear brother had been part in a plot to steal my rightful throne.” His fingers stroke over the wooden plate of the table. “I am Robert’s heir. I am the older one.”

“But I am more fit to be king. You have the personality of a lobster!” Renly had not meant to be so harsh, but the words did simply leave his mouth.

Stannis, however, did not even look insulted. “Still I have more men than you.”

“How loyal do you think the Starks will be? Don’t you think they would much rather be on the winning side? Especially after the Starks discovered how that girl you got into the family has been spying for you?”

For the first time in the conversation, Stannis seemed genuinely surprised. “You are talking nonsense. The Starks have no idea!”

Renly smiled. “You’re not the only one keeping people under surveillance, brother, I do to. And my source inside the Stark clan has been really certain. They know. And she has changed sides. Looks bad for your alliance, doesn’t it?”

There was a long moment of silence, before Stannis took the word once more. “I give you one last chance to turn back, Renly. Join my cause now or I will show you no mercy.”

“I don’t want your mercy”, Renly replied, shaking his head. “And I don’t need it. Surrender now, brother, or tomorrow at midnight my army will stand at your gates and slaughter your men.” He was feeling really proud of himself, finally being able to stand up to his brother. Stannis stood no chance against him on the battlefield.

Stannis’ expression was frozen. “You have chosen the wrong path, Renly, and you will regret it dearly. I promise you that.”

Shaking his head, Renly turned to take his leave. “May the day come where we face each other on the battlefield Stannis, and then I will show _you_ no mercy.”

“You are no brother of mine”, Stannis answered, jaw clenched and features stern. “Now leave before I rip you to pieces.”

It was very silent, as Renly made his way through the hallway back to the door. This had been his home once. Now it was merely the shadow of it. As the iron gate fell shut behind him, there was a strange sense of finality. _It was the last time he would see that house._

 

-

 

It was shortly after 2am as Melisandre’s phone lightened up on the bedside table, and her ring tone began to play. Jon next to her buried his head under the pillow, signing in discontent. Quickly, she grabbed for the phone and pressed the green button, only catching a glimpse of Stannis’ name on the display.

“What?” she greeted him, rolling onto her back and trying to keep her voice down.

The voice on the other hand was dark and angry, Stannis was almost growling. “Come over here now.”

Melisandre frowned, actually close to laughing. “I’m not taking orders from you.”

Stannis on the other hand did not seem to be in the mood for jokes, since he sounded even more angry with the next words. “You’re here in fifteen minutes or I swear I’ll skin you alive.” Then the line went silent, as she heard him slam the red button and end the call.

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. _What had that been about?_ Slowly, she sat up and put her phone back onto the bedside table, debating whether she should risk being skinned alive or not.

Next to her, Jon shifted and turned in her direction. “Who calls you at 2 am?” he muttered, head still under his pillow.

“Stannis”, Melisandre sighed, climbing to the edge of the bed and searching for her heels on the floor. She was still dressed, fortunately, otherwise the fifteen minutes limit would have been a little critical. “He demanded from me to come over, made a pretty little death threat if I refuse and then hang up”, she continued as she slipped into her shoes. “Charming, isn’t he?”

Now slightly frowning, Jon sat up as well. “You want me to come with you?” He actually sounded really concerned, even though he was still half asleep, causing her to smile.

“I can take care of myself, but thanks.” She made her way over to the window, opening it and sitting down on the windowsill. “I hope it won’t take long. Go back to sleep in the meantime.” She smiled, as she climbed onto the outer sill and closed the window behind her, before letting herself fall onto the ground next to the mansion.

Above her, thin clouds covered the moonlight and the stars, making the night a lot darker than it had usually been. A soft wind had risen and the grass under her feet was almost frozen solid. It had gotten colder and colder the last days, autumn seemed to take a quick end this year and winter was already coming.

It took her a few minutes to get to Stannis’ mansion, she took the usual entrance through one of the ground floor windows and made her way over to the library, expecting to see Stannis there. Of course, she had been right.

He was not reading, however, but instead leaned against the table with a glass of blood in his hands, jaw clenched and eyes burning with anger. She could see how angry he was even before she set eyes on him. The whole air seemed to be filled with it.

“Here I am”, she greeted, as she entered the library and stopped a few feet away from him. She was not sure if it were a good idea to come any closer. “What was so important for me to come here so quickly?”

For a moment, it seemed like he did not react at all. “My brother declared war on me today”, he finally said, never looking up from his glass.

Melisandre’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Renly?” she asked, as if to make sure she had understood correctly. That sort of action did not sound like the younger Baratheon at all.

“Do I have any other living brother?” Stannis replied cynically, intensifying the grip around his drink. His voice sounded as if he was having a hard time to control his anger.

She was silent for a second, not certain what that had to do with her, anyway. “So”, she began after some time had passed. “What are you gonna do now?”

“Tomorrow at midnight he is going to attack me with all forces of the Tyrell army.” Stannis’ eyes were still fixed on the blood in his glass. “He is outnumbering me.”

Melisandre was still not sure why that was any of her business. “I don’t think I can help you with that”, she replied slowly. “So I still don’t understand why I had to come here so urgently. I’m not your personal servant, you know.”

The last comment seemed to have been too much, since only a heartbeat later the glass from Stannis’ hand was shattering on the wall behind her. Scarlet liquid ran over the dark wood, shards of glass scattered over the floor. For a moment, it was utterly silent.

Melisandre stared at Stannis in disbelief, her jaw had dropped. She meant to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat. She was not sure why.

“Renly told me something else, you should know. Something a spy of him had discovered.” Stannis voice was low and reserved, but she could still hear the anger hidden behind it.

She did not dare to make a sound, only listen to him in silence.

“That spy had discovered that your new family, the Starks, have indeed already discovered that I had placed my own spy among their ranks. Moreover he also told me that you have switched sides.” It was the first time he looked her openly in the eyes. “Is that true?” It did not even sound like a question, but she knew that he was expecting an answer anyway.

For a second, she was debating whether he would believe her if she lied. Knowing Stannis, she was certain that he would not. Therefore, she didn’t see any other way than a nod. “It is”, she replied quietly, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible. She did not want to risk making him even more angry.

To her surprise, Stannis was laughing. It was a joyless laugh, still. “It is truly ironic, I must say”, he replied, shaking his had in disbelief. “The spy of my brother exposes my own spy.”

Melisandre swallowed hard, taking a small step backwards. The broken glass cracked under the hell of her shoes. It was an odd silence which filled the room, as she waited for Stannis’ next move. _Why had he called on her if he had already known the answer?_ He certainly did not need to her her yes to be sure it was true, he had been convinced of it before. So what was the purpose of her coming this evening with such urgency?

Finally, Stannis continued speaking. “You love him, don’t you? That boy I married you to. I should have seen it coming, honestly, knowing how predictable you are.”

Melisandre bit her lip. “I am not in love with him.” It did not sound very convincing, not even to her own eyes, although it was the truth. _Or was it really?_ “I am just tired of you treating me like a slave”, she added, hoping to make herself sound a little more believable.

He laughed at the words. “It is truly sweet, such a love story. Only sad that you can never be honest with him, can you? Or did you tell him how the love of his life really died? And how you knew of it?”

She swallowed again, escaping his eyes. The answer got stuck in her throat. He was right, of course. She could never tell him. Not now, anyway, now that she had kept it a secret for so long.

Stannis seemed to interpret her silence as a yes, since he laughed quietly. “What a tragic story, really.” The mocking undertone of his voice was not even hidden. Another while of silence followed, broken once again by Stannis as he continued to speak. “Coming back to the small issue regarding my brother”, he began, searching to look into her eyes, “you are going to help me solve it.” The smile on his lips was almost scary.

“And how do you expect me to do so?” she frowned, crossing her arms in front of her chest. He was seriously expecting her to help him after all that had happened.

The smile on his lips grew bigger. “Tomorrow night just after the sun has set you will sneak into Renly’s accommodations at the other end of town and you will enter his rooms, surprise him, cut his throat and make an end to the threat once and for all.”

He said the words with such a cold calmness, without even one change of expression, that she was not completely sure whether it had been a serious demand at first. She knew him, though, so she was quite aware that he was not joking. Suddenly, the situation seemed almost funny. “You are asking me to murder your brother?”

Stannis was almost smiling. “I am not asking.”

Melisandre shook her head very slowly. “Well, I am not doing it.” Perhaps she should not have said it with such a mocking tone, since not even a second later Stannis’ hands were around her throat and she was pressed backwards against the wall of the library. His body was pressed against hers, making it impossible for her to move. She could have maybe tried to fight him, but she knew better than to try it. Stannis was much older and a better skilled fighter than her and she didn’t want to risk anything. Therefore, she stood still, trying to ignore the pressure around her throat. It was more of a symbolic gesture, anyway, since he could not really strangle her since she was not even breathing.

His lips were close to her ear, as he repeated his words from before. “I am not asking.”

She tilted her head slightly, bringing more space between their bodies. “No matter how many death threats you make, I’m not doing it”, she replied. She was sure that he would never really hurt her, making her words a little more bold than it maybe should have been in her situation.

Stannis, however, only smiled. “Not even when I direct them towards your husband?”

Melisandre’s body tensed, but she tried to keep her face unmoved. _He wouldn’t dare._ “You wouldn’t do that.”

Stannis’ fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.” His grip intensified a little. “You will solve that issue with Renly for me, otherwise your husband might end up involved in a little accident sometime soon.” He finally let go of her, withdrawing a few steps back. “That is settled then, right?”

Her fingers traveled across the skin of her neck where his hands had just been, trying to sort out her thoughts. _What was she supposed to do now?_ She felt like whatever way she would choose, it would end up being the wrong one.

Stannis, obviously annoyed by the lack of an answer, turned to look at her again. “ _Right_?” he repeated, more impatient this time.

She closed her eyes for a moment, before she nodded. “It’s settled.”

The smile on his face made her want to throw up. “Good”, was all he replied, before looking at her one last time and then leaving the room without another word.


	14. Murder

The darkness of the night provided her cover, the moonlight only weak through the thick dark clouds and the light of the stars nearly died out. The air was cold with frost, ice cracking under each of her steps as she walked through the grass next to the road, out of fear to be seen.

Renly’s hiding place was a building at the end of town and surrounded by a three meter high iron fence with a gate of thick steel and two guards positioned in front of that. They had big caliber guns hanging on their belts, with which they could probably kill her from a distance of fifty meters.

So it would not come that far, she approached the building from the back, jumping over the fence with one swift move and landing silently on the grass of the other side, waiting for an alarm to go off. The night stayed quiet, however, meaning that they had not been smart enough to secure the place with an alarm system. The guards and the fence were not of much use if one could just enter from the back without anything happening. Actually, she was a little disappointed. She had expected more from Renly, and especially Margaery Tyrell, since the girl had always been so eager to prove that she was in fact more clever than anyone else.

Without further hesitation, she enclosed the distance to the building and carefully looked into one of the ground floor windows. A curtain covered most of the view, but it seemed to be something like a kitchen. It was empty, too, and dark and seemed entirely abandoned. Carefully, she tried if it was locked. Fortunately it wasn’t, making it easy for her to open it and slide into the room without making a sound. Renly really needed to find himself a better hiding place!

For a moment, she listened into the house, if anyone had heard her entrance. Somewhere, distant voices were to be heard, probably two or three levels above her, one of them sounding much like Loras Tyrell. Slowly, she approached the door which let out of the kitchen, opening it a little and trying to see what was behind it. A staircase came into her view and a hugely illuminated hallway as well as the front door. It seemed to be empty as well, so she slid out of the kitchen and stepped into the light of the next room. The electric light burned in her eyes and she wondered why vampires would ever use this instead of candles. But Renly had always had a sense of extravagance, so maybe this was his style.

On the first floor, she could hear the voices of a few people talking behind one of the doors, but none of them seemed to have heard her entering. Without further hesitation, she approached the stairs, wanting this to be over as quickly as possible.

Suddenly, there was a sound behind her and before even she could react, the cold metal of a gun was pressed into her neck. “Don’t move”, someone behind her whispered. “I didn’t think you’d come yourself, I thought you’d send someone to do the dirty work.”

Her lips formed a little smile. “Well”, she mused, while reaching for the knife hidden under her dress. “I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” To quickly for him to realize what she was doing, she reached behind her and buried the knife deep in his lower abdomen. Using this moment of confusion, she also grabbed the gun out of his hands, quickly checking for the silencer and shooting him right between the eyes, making sure the vampire typical self healing came too late. Even a vampire would not survive two bullets to the head.

Leaving the body behind, she quickly made her way up to the first floor, afraid someone might discover him before she had the chance to finish her job. For that special case, she also kept his gun. She had originally planned to do it with the knife but perhaps a few bullets to the head were the better choice. Less messy.

She found the scent she was looking for up on the second floor, still listening to the voice of Loras Tyrell one level above, checking if he had noticed anything. He had not, fortunately, making her relax a little. _It was going to be so easy. So so easy._

She reached the end of the staircase, making her way to the right. In front of her, a thick wooden door formed the only distance left between her and her mark. Slowly, she removed the safety from her gun. Then she turned the knob, watching the door open.

And a silent shot went off.

 

-

 

Melisandre was laying in Jon’s bed, staring at the ceiling and counted the minutes until midnight. The clock in the room across the hallway was ticking in her ears, as she counted the movements of the smallest pointer as seconds seemed to pass in slow motion. She could not risk getting up before Jon was fully asleep. Every time the slightly bigger pointer reached the twelve on the clock, she listened to his breathing to check if he had yet fallen asleep. Unfortunately, he was taking an awful lot of time.

Almost an hour had passed until his breathing was finally becoming steady. Carefully, she sat up and checked whether he would notice her movements, but fortunately he did not, so she climbed out of the bed and quickly scurried to the window. Silently, she opened the window and closed it behind her, letting herself fall onto the ground. She was running out of time, and she had no chance but to succeed.

Renly’s house was easy to find, only guarded from the front, making it easy for her to just climb over the fence and jump up onto the roof. The weak moonlight reflected on her skin as she sat down on the rain gutter, listening in to the conversations in the rooms below her. She was searching for Renly’s voice, noticing it on the third floor directly under the roof. He was talking to Loras Tyrell about war strategies, making her lean back a little. She could not act until he was alone, anyway, so she had some time left to calm down and prepare mentally. It was dark around her, the moon now entirely hidden by the nightly clouds. A soft wind was rising, but cold. Winter was surely coming by now, as fall was coming to an end. Fitting, somehow, in these times where war could break out any minute.

Suddenly, there was a movement below her. Melisandre froze, eyes searching the darkness. A figure jumped over the fence, face hidden by a black hoodie. From the slim way of moving and the speed she could see it was another vampire, but she was not certain if it was a man or a woman. The person approached one of the ground floor windows, opening it and slipping into the house, luckily without any attention to what was above them.

Melisandre bit her lip, nervously wringing her hands. What was going on here? In the best case, that person had come to do the job for her and finish of Renly, but she was probably not going to be that lucky. In the worst case, this could lead to her being noticed. She listened to the inside of the house, but apart from the distinct conversations, nothing remarkable was happening.

Then suddenly, two shots went off. The gun had a silencer, yes, but if you listened as carefully as Melisandre was at that moment, you could definitely hear it. Silence followed, a long silence, in which she was praying for nobody to have heard it too or to notice who ever had been shot just yet. Below her, Loras Tyrell was saying goodbye to Renly, leaving the room and entering a different room on the third floor. She had to act soon, but didn’t dare to move until the other person was out of the house. So she continued to listen in silence, waiting for anything else to happen. _If she would fail tonight, Stannis would make her pay._ She knew he would. And he wouldn’t care why or how it had gone wrong, as soon as his brother’s army was standing at his gates. An army which outnumbered his own.

Just as the silence became almost impossible to bear any longer, another shot went off. Melisandre almost fell from the roof at the sound of it, trying very much to calm her racing thoughts down. What was happening here? There was a strange sound following the shot of the silenced gun, like someone who usually did not have to breath was suddenly struggling for air. Something fell onto the floor, a body perhaps. Another gasp, a last struggle to stop life from leaving the body, then silence. Melisandre’s fingers curled around the gutter, almost breaking it. The metal felt warm against the coldness of her skin. Above her, the clouds made room for the moon.

A window was opened and a body dropped to the floor, the figure leaving as fast as she had come. It was no more than a shadow, swiftly jumping over the fence and disappearing, as the night swallowed them. Melisandre was quite certain that she had just witnessed a murder. Not that she could say of herself to be the most morally correct person ever existent, but she still found something to be wrong with murdering someone. She wouldn’t have killed Renly if Stannis had left her a choice. _Not anymore, at least._ A few months ago, she even might have done so, but by now something had changed. She was no longer a cold hearted creature who would do anything to impress others, she liked to think of herself as a better person by now. At least a little.

Without making a sound, she let herself fall from the roof and landed on the window sill of the room in which she guessed Renly to be. She got lucky, as the window was actually not locked. Renly himself had turned his back to her, currently in the state of undressing. _Great moment to enter,_ she thought to herself, as she watched him take of his cloak. _Perfect timing, really._ Carefully, she reached into her pocket, pulling the little thing out that Stannis had given her. Since he was quite the dramatic person himself, he had thought of something a lot fancier than a simple gun. It was a little bomb, he had explained to her, which exploded ten seconds after being activated and then produced UV light like sun rays, instantly burning the vampire near it. This had the advantage that she did not have to enter the room, but also the disadvantage of probably lots of people noticing and of her having to leave as quickly as possible.

Slowly, without making a sound, she opened the window a little, calming herself down in her mind. She got this. It was perfectly easy. And she made sure Jon was safe. The little button on the bomb glowed red, her finger hovered over it for a second, before she got herself together and pressed it. As fast as possible, she dropped the bomb and watched it roll into the room, still blinking red. A heartbeat passed while she couldn’t draw her eyes away from the light, but then Renly turned around, and before his eyes could find her, she let herself fall from the window sill and landed on the grass. Within a second she was behind the fence, letting the darkness provide her cover. The explosion echoed in her eyes, as the room’s window lightened up for a moment. Then it was utterly silent.

She ran the whole way to Stannis’ mansion, not once looking back. If her heart were still beating, it probably would have been racing, at the same speed as her thought were. Cold wind was cutting through her thin dress, but she didn’t feel it. In fact, she did not feel anything. There was a cool emptiness inside her, filling the space where usually the guilt and regret should have been. Somehow, it didn’t feel like she had just killed someone at all. It had not been the first time for her to kill, of course, but she had expected to at least feel some kind of reaction. But there was nothing. It was like her body was utterly empty, apart from the troubled thoughts of somebody noticing her.

To her surprise, she found Stannis not in his library, but outside in his garden. He stood in front of one of the trees, staring at the leaves as if they were telling him a secret.

Melisandre stopped next to him, looking up to the long branches which covered the night sky. “What kind of tree is it?” she asked silently, looking back to Stannis’ face.

There was no reaction in his features, but his eyes seemed to grow a little darker. “A peach tree. Renly always loved peaches. My parents planted it for him when he was still a little boy.”

Melisandre bit her lip, not sure of what to say next.

Stannis’ face was frozen, still staring at the tree as if there was something important hidden between the leaves. “Tomorrow Margaery Tyrell will come and beg me for my support when Cersei Lannister’s whole wrath is raining down on her”, he said quietly, never looking at her. “And there will be no more Renly to steal my throne.”

For a second, she considered telling Stannis about the other person. But she looked at his face, the stern eyes, and decided against it. “I’m leaving”, she said instead, taking a few steps back. “And I don’t want to get mixed up into any of your plans again. I’ve done enough for you.” She waited a few seconds for an answer, but it never came. The tree seemed to be of greater importance than her words. “Okay”, she muttered, finally turning away and making her way out of the garden. She was beginning to feel how tired she was. And she only wanted to go home.


	15. Exposed

Unfortunately, the whole sneaking out to Renly’s house had taken her longer than planned, and as she climbed through the window back into Jon’s room, he was already up. He was awaiting her with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a stern expression on his face, which could not mean anything good.

“Where have you been?” he greeted her, as she jumped from the windowsill and pushed the window shut behind her.

She gave her best to stay calm. “Enjoying the night”, she replied, getting out of her heels and throwing them onto the floor.

He rolled his eyes. “I thought we were over that.”   
Melisandre frowned. “Over what?” she snapped, hurt by the accusing tone of his voice. It was obvious that he did not believe her.

“Over lying to each other?” he answered. “We both know you haven’t been ‘enjoying the night’.” There was a short pause. “Or at least not alone.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, surprised by how jealous he was sounding. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Jon swallowed hard. “You know what it’s supposed to mean. Have you been with Stannis?”

She bit her lip. “No.” It actually sounded believable, at least in her own ears.

However, Jon was everything but convinced. “Why do I not believe you?”

“Maybe because you don’t trust me”, she replied defensively. “Because if you would, you wouldn’t interrogate me every time I leave the house. I’m not your pet, you know.” It came off more rude than she had intended, but it had been the truth.

His features became a little softer. “I’m only worrying about you, okay? I don’t mean to control you. And besides, yours and Stannis’ history doesn’t make it any easier to believe you.”

He had a point, she had to admit that, but of course she kept that to herself. Some part of her was even touched that he was actually worried about her. She kept that to herself, too. Instead, she stayed quiet for a moment, thinking about what to say next. “I had to get some things done, alright? But I can’t tell you what exactly.”

She had been hoping he would be content with that answer, but of course he was not. “Why not?” he wanted to know, getting up from the bed and approaching her.

“I just can’t, okay? It’s dangerous.” She tried not to look at him as she said the words, out of fear that her eyes would give her away, She could not risk telling him and Jon running straight to Stannis or his father.

But of course, Jon being Jon, he was not letting go. In fact, he looked even more worried now. “One reason more to tell me”, he replied, stopping in front of her, close enough that she could feel his breathing on her skin. She felt the urge to pull back, but resisted. “You don’t need to do these things alone, you know. Not anymore.”

Melisandre felt her defense melting away as she looked into his eyes, trying to keep herself from spilling the words out. Quickly, she withdraw a few steps, until she felt the wall behind her back. “I really can’t tell”, she repeated the words, even though she felt like they were of no use. He would find out anyway. He wasn’t stupid. He would get her to talk, eventually. One look into his eyes and she was already half defeated. _When did she let this happen?_

However, she was saved only a second later, by a loud knock on the door. Jon rolled his eyes at the sound, crossing the room and opening it. “What?” she heard him snap, obviously not pleased to see whoever was awaiting him in the hallway.

But he was shoved aside quickly as Robb Stark entered the room, pushing the door shut behind him. His eyes rested on Melisandre for a moment, as if he was debating whether to throw her out or not. “We have a problem”, he declared, turning around to face his brother. “Three problems, to be precise. Problems which are greater than your little relationship issues.”

Jon frowned at the words, exchanging a quick look with Melisandre. “What happened?” he asked, voice a lot more calm now.

There was a moment of silence, before Robb took the word again. “Renly Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell have been murdered yesterday. By Stannis, most likely.”

Jon’s eyes drifted to her instantly, as she was trying very hard to keep hers fixed onto the ground. She knew that they would give her away. “Is there any proof that he was involved?” she heard Jon’s voice, but it sounded very far away, as if there was a sudden distance between them which could not be crossed.

“No”, Robb answered. “But Renly’s men are convinced he was the only one who had a motive for the murders. Loras Tyrell was so convinced of it that he joined Cersei Lannister’s cause just out of spite, after he vowed to have Stannis’ head rotting on a spike above the city.”

 _Stannis will not like that at all._ She still didn’t dare to look up, even though she was convinced that Jon knew anyway. The whole situation was pretty clear right now.

However, Robb was not yet finished. “There’s more”, he muttered, eyes a lot darker than just before. “Now that Cersei has the Tyrell army at her side, she’s coming for us. Father was arrested this morning, for not accepting her ‘right claim’ to the throne.”

Melisandre leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment.

“Have you contacted Cersei? Asked to negotiate with her?” Jon wanted to know, but Robb only shook his head.

“I am not going to negotiate with the Lannisters. They have declared war on us and we will answer with war.” Robb looked over to Melisandre for a moment. “I have summoned the other clans to come join us. We are going to get father back.”

Jon’s mouth had fallen open. “Have you gone mad? You can never win a war against the Lannister’s and the Tyrell’s!”

“Oh yes I can”, Robb replied, a strange sort of proud smile on his face. “I am going to show them the power of wolves.” He looked at his brother for a moment. “And I came to ask your support, not your permission. I will march with or without you.” He turned around to Melisandre. “Same for you. Decide which side you are on. Two days from now we will go to war.”

It was strangely quiet when Robb left the room and silence returned, neither Jon nor Melisandre knowing what to say.

Finally, she regained her voice. “He is marching into his doom. He can never win.”

Jon nodded. “I know. But he is my brother. I gotta go with him.”

She felt a strange fear inside her chest at the words, together with the urge to say something to keep him from doing so. But she knew that he was right. He had to go with Robb. “He is doing exactly what Stannis always wanted”, she muttered quietly, wringing her hands. “Keeping Cersei Lannister distracted while destroying himself and his army.”

Jon sighed. “He’s going to go ask Stannis for an alliance.”

Melisandre shook her head. “He’s going to say no.”

“We don’t know that”, Jon replied, running a hand through his hair.

She looked down onto the floor. “I know”, she replied quietly, biting her lip. She knew exactly that this was just what Stannis had been waiting for. The perfect opportunity for him to get rid of the Starks without risking his own forces.

There was a short silence following her words, Jon frowned in her direction. “What did you really do last night?” He took a deep breath. “Did you murder Margaery and Renly?”

She gave her best to meet his eyes. “You probably won’t believe me, but neither me nor Stannis had anything to do with the death of Margaery. Stannis, he-” she tried to find the right words. “He made me get rid of Renly. But not Margaery. I can promise you that. That was somebody else.” And suddenly, as she was saying the words, the whole picture seemed to fall together. “Cersei...” she whispered. Of course. It only made sense. Cersei was getting rid of Margaery, hoping that Renly and Loras would join her together. The murder of Renly had been a pleasant convenience for her.

Jon was hesitating for a moment. “What has Renly done to you that you accepted?” He did not sound accusing, but more tired than anything.

Melisandre sighed. Suddenly, the guilt felt heavy on her shoulders. “Nothing”, she replied, with a voice much more steady than she had expected from herself. “He’s done nothing to me. I wouldn’t have done it, but Stannis didn’t really leave me much of a choice.”

Jon frowned at the words, approaching her again. She could see the worry in his eyes. “What did he do?” he wanted to know, stopping a few steps away from her.

She bit her lip, remaining silent.

He sighed, making another step towards her and carefully lifting her chin a little. “Just tell me.”

She escaped his eyes. “He said he’ll kill you if I don’t do it.”

There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite figure out, something she had not seen there before. His fingers were still on her chin, she could feel the warmth of his skin fighting for dominance with the coldness of her own.

For a long moment, he did not seem to react. Then, suddenly, he leaned forward to kiss her. It was a short kiss, much shorter than she would have liked, but somehow it seemed to make everything right again. It made all the problems they had and all the challenges they would have to face suddenly not seem so important anymore.

Melisandre felt a lot warmer as he withdraw, the strange kind of warmth that she only ever felt being near to him. She still did not look into his eyes.

“You didn’t have to do it. Just for me”, he said quietly, taking one of her hands into his own and crossing her fingers with his.

She smiled a little, looking up to him. “Yes I did”, was all she replied. Because it was the truth.

“We will have to go to war”, he reminded both of them, still leaning in so close to her that she was beginning to feel as if she had to back away. He had invaded her comfort zone and she was feeling as if he could look into her head when he was standing so close. On the other hand, she didn’t want him to leave either. It was strangely comforting, somehow.

“I’ll go with Robb”, she muttered. “Tomorrow. To go talk to Stannis. Maybe I can convince him.”

Jon frowned at the words, the slight hint of jealousy back in his face. “I’ll go with you”, he answered, just as she had expected him to say.

“Not the best idea, perhaps. After he threatened to kill you.” She smiled a little, watching him roll his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Robb will be there.”

He sighed a little. “We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t rip Stannis’ throat out right away when he refuses to cooperate, with that new attitude.”

She nodded. “I think I can handle the both of them.”

A moment of silence followed her words, in which she actually got lost in his eyes. She felt his fingers move down her jaw across her collarbone, as she did nothing else but to stare into the gray of his eyes. It was as if the world had stopped around them, suddenly, or as if a bubble had built up around them and separated them from everything else. She was struggling to explain it really, since she couldn’t quite grasp it herself. It was like his eyes were magnets, drawing her towards him at all times.

It took her lots of self control to finally draw her gaze away and look somewhere else. “You should go downstairs and talk to Robb”, she broke the silence, being much too aware that his fingers were still on her collarbone. She wasn’t able to concentrate like this. “Maybe you can convince him to begin with negotiations.”

Jon nodded slowly, withdrawing a little and giving her a little more space. “Yeah, I should.” He looked outside the window. “It’s already dawn, you should pull the blinds down.” His fingers let go of her skin and he moved backwards, eyes still fixed on her. “I’ll be back soon.”

She smiled a little. “Alright.” Suddenly, she missed the warmth of his skin.

 

-

 

The sound of her heels on the stone floor echoed from the high walls as Cersei entered the throne room through the huge gate which separated it from the rest of the shadow castle. The walls were thick, black stone, huge candles provided some light and the glass windows were closed with blanks to shut the sunlight out. It was just right after dawn, but inside the castle it was as dim as during the night.

The building had been built during ancient times especially for vampires, making it perfectly safe to stay in even during the day. People called it the shadow castle just because of its dark stone and the fact that it was always night inside the walls.

Since she was a child, Cersei had been dreaming to live here. And with her marriage to Robert, her father had made it possible. Her husband, however, had not at all been the prince she had been dreaming of, and so she had taken the first good advantage and had gotten rid of him. It had taken her a few years, but now she was finally here by herself.

She smiled as she stood in front of the throne, covering almost the whole back wall of the room. It was huge, but she liked that. All she had ever desired in life had been this throne, and now she had it almost for herself. _Almost._ If it weren’t for Stannis Baratheon and those stupid wolves who caused nothing but trouble. But soon they would also be defeated. The little Tyrell she had gotten rid of, now she had the whole Tyrell army at her back and Ned Stark was rotting in _her_ dungeon in _her_ castle at the very moment.

She knew that the little wolf would come for her. His temper was known in almost the whole city, but for her it was only an advantage. She would let him come. She would let him come and let his army shatter against the walls of her castle as waves against the shore and then watch them being torn apart by her men. He had no chance to win. And neither did Stannis Baratheon. That shadow of a vampire would never sit upon her throne, she would make sure of that.

Steps echoed through the room behind her, and Jaime stopped beside her. His eyes went over the throne for a moment.

“Look at out throne, brother”, she whispered, lips curled up in a smile. “Isn’t it beautiful.”

Jaime smiled weakly. “Your throne. I do not want it. And you have not won it yet.”

She ignored the words. She would win it. Soon enough. “Any word from father?” she asked instead.

Her twin nodded. “He has left the city to get the rest of our forces from Lannisport. He has instructed you to not make any decisions concerning Ned Stark until he has returned.”

Cersei resisted the urge to roll her eyes. If it were for Tywin Lannister, they would have never moved on the Starks at all. He had been furious after her announcement to arrest him, talking for an eternity about how she was disgracing the family legacy and so on. He just did not understand that she was the only one who was honoring it at all.

“There is more”, Jaime continued. “Our spies say that Robb Stark is gathering the other clans around him. Karstarks, Mormonts, they are all coming. Their attack will be soon.”

She nodded. _If it is battlefields he wants, battlefields I shall give him._ “We have to judge Ned Stark before his son has a chance to come here. The night after tomorrow, I would say.”

Jaime frowned. “Perhaps it would be wise to wait.”

Cersei turned to him, smiling. “And risk that Robb Stark’s anger diminishes before he has been destroyed? Oh no. I am going to execute his father for high treason and I am going to watch him come here with all of his forces running into his own destruction. He needs to be so blinded by rage that he is not even noticing what he is doing to himself.”

Her twin nodded. He understood. He always did. “He will try to kill you.”

“Let him”, she replied. “He is only a child.” She turned back to the throne. “Let him come into this hall and I will personally rip his heart out and feet it to his own wolves.” She looked over to Jaime. “But of course, he won’t come that far. You’ll make sure it won’t, will you?”

Her brother nodded. “As I always have, sister.”

They exchanged a last quick look, before she turned and walked away from her throne. There was other business she had to attend, since there was still Stannis Baratheon to worry about. He was not as mindless and easy to manipulate as the young Robb unfortunately, requiring a wiser and more thought out strategy. But she would handle that, too.

Because it was her day now. It was her castle and her kingdom.


	16. Winter is coming

It was next day’s dawn, the sun already disappeared on the horizon, leaving only shreds of pink and gray clouds, as Jon and Melisandre waited for Robb to take his leave for Stannis’ mansion. Jon was staring outside the window, eyes on the dark trees which moved softly in the cool wind. The air had become cold and harsh already, the first winds of winter were rising. Melisandre was walking through the room, heels clicking with each step on the wooden floor. She was biting her lip, arms crossed before her chest. Every try to keep Robb from going through with his plan had failed, and so their only hope was to convince Stannis to join their course. Otherwise they would all die the following night.

After a few minutes of complete silence, Melisandre finally made an attempt to break it. “Have all the clans arrived yet?”

Jon only nodded, eyes never leaving whatever he was seeing outside the window.

She frowned, crossing the room and stopping next to him. “What’s so interesting?” she wanted to know, trying to figure out what he was looking at. “The trees? I didn’t know you’re into botany.” She saw him rolling his eyes. A reaction, at least. “What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning backwards against the windowsill so she could see his face.

He sighed. “I’m worried.”

Melisandre nodded slowly. “Me too. But about what, exactly?”

Jon sighed again, looking at her for a moment. “My father.” There was a short pause. “About you, too. Since you won’t let me come with you.”

She smiled a little. “I’ll be just fine, believe me. Your brother is with me.” Robb was not particularly known for liking her very much, but it would be fine. “And trust me, I got Stannis handled.” Or at least she hoped she did.

His eyes met hers for a moment. “You know that you don’t have to do this, right?”

“Do what?”, she wanted to know, not quite understanding what he was hinting at.

Jon took a step away from the window and in her direction, so that he was now standing in front of her. “You don’t have to stay with us, if you don’t want to. What Robb is doing is madness and it will probably end with all of us being killed, so if you want to leave, you can do that.”

Melisandre frowned. _Where was that coming from?_ “Why would I leave?”

“Because this is not your fight”, he replied quietly. “Or at least it doesn’t have to be.”

She only smiled. “Yes it is.” Carefully, she reached out for his hand. “We’re married now. In good and in bad times, you know. Didn’t you listen to the priest?”

Jon laughed. “I was a little distracted by my bride.”

“Really, were you? You didn’t seem to look much at her at all”, she replied with a smile, still remembering how little attention he had actually given her on her wedding day.

Right in that moment, there was a knock at the door. “Can we leave?” Robb asked from the hallway, obviously not in the best mood.

Jon rolled his eyes at his brother’s words, letting go of her hand. “I apologize to my bride. I was a little intimidated by how beautiful she looked.” He pressed a short kiss to her forehead, before he was making his way to the door to open.

Melisandre could not help the smile, watching him for a moment, until remembering why Robb has actually come. Quickly, she hurried to the door. “I’m here”, she greeted Robb, trying to smile as friendly as possible since he looked quite grim.

“Good”, was the only answer she got, as he already turned away to the staircase.

She sighed quietly, exchanging one last look with Jon and then following him downstairs.

“We’re taking the car”, Robb informed her. “Much quicker.”

 _Quicker than you maybe,_ she thought, but didn’t dare saying it. Instead, she nodded. “Of course.”

 

-

 

It was utterly dark outside when they got into the car, the sun completely vanished by now and the moon no more than a mere shadow behind the dark clouds. It was going to rain soon, the feeling of it already hung in the air. The trees were moving in the cool wind, frost already covering the thin layer of grass under their feet. _Winter was coming._

Robb was silent during the car drive, only staring grimly into the darkness of the night. He was wearing his father’s leather jacket, she had noticed, and his fast pulse echoed through the car almost like a drum. He was even more nervous than she was.

Stannis’ mansion seemed dark and empty as the car stopped in front of the gate, no light in any windows, as if no one was home. In fact Stannis was home, of course, for he was never leaving the house unless he had too. He would be there, she was sure. Robb walked over to the gate and pressed the doorbell, as Melisandre was still climbing out of the car. The gate opened silently, without making a sound, and Robb stepped into the garden without waiting for her. Quickly, she caught up with him.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone’s home”, Robb noticed, making his way to the front gate. “Perhaps Stannis was gone out.”

 _Yes sure._ “Stannis has never gone out in his life”, she replied, just noticing how long she had not used the front gate. “He just likes people to think he is not home so they won’t come and bother him.”

Robb frowned, but didn’t answer.   
  
The door was opened and they were let inside the mansion and into the huge hallway, illuminated by a brief number of candles. To be fair, it was still pretty dark. The candlelight didn’t make too much of a difference. Davos Seaworth awaited them there, wearing the usual quite grim features and the suspicious look on his face. He had never liked her, not even before she had started sleeping with Stannis.

“Hey Davos”, she greeted, an extra sweet smile on her face, causing Robb to give her a slightly confused look.

Davos Seaworth one the other hand ignored her entirely, focused only on Robb. “King Stannis is in his dining hall.”

She followed Robb over to the next room, where Stannis was siting on his huge roundtable, drinking a glass of blood. The table itself was painted and carved in, showing a whole map of the entire city. Stannis had often told her how that table had come into his custody, but she had never actually payed any attention. The only thing she remembered was that it had not been made by anyone from his family but a different family, who had once ruled the city, before it had gone extinct.

Stannis looked up as they entered. “Robb Stark”, he observed, smiling a little. His eyes met Melisandre’s for a moment, but he didn’t bother to greet her too. Probably better that way, she figured. “How did I come to this honor?” he went on, more sarcastically than honest.

Robb took his time with the answer. “Cersei Lannister has arrested my father and plans to put him on trial for high treason.”

Stannis’ expression never changed. “That’s very tragic, but I do not see how I am involved.”

“You call yourself King Stannis”, Robb continued, now much more quiet. “But yet Cersei Lannister is sitting on your throne, in your castle, calling herself the Queen.”

Stannis clenched his jaw, eyes suddenly growing dark.

Robb went on. “I plan to attack that very castle. I plan to slaughter her army down to the last man and get my father back and when I am done with that, I have no use for that throne that you all desire so much. Join me with your forces and when we have destroyed Cersei Lannister and her brother, you will have the throne all to yourself.”

Melisandre could see the desire in Stannis’ eyes at the last words. It was a perfect opportunity for him, actually, if he could be sure that Robb was telling the truth. He could not, of course, and Melisandre knew that he had always feared the Starks wanting the throne as well.

“How do I know that you are telling the truth?” he asked now, expressing just the doubts she thought he might have. “How do I know that you won’t turn on me the moment the Lannister’s are destroyed?”

“I have no interest in the throne at all. All I want is my father back”, Robb repeated. “I am not fighting for the throne.”

For the first time during the conversation, Stannis turned to Melisandre. “Is he telling the truth?”   
  
At first, she was not sure if the question was meant seriously. “Of course he is”, she replied, frowning a little. “He is offering just what you’ve always wanted. An alliance in order to defeat Cersei Lannister.” She was giving her best to sound persuasive, but she was not too sure if it worked.

Stannis took a sip from his blood. “I want a written declaration that you won’t claim any rights to the throne as soon as we have won it. I want you both to sign it.”

Robb looked over to her for a second, before he nodded. “Of course.”

“And I want it signed with your blood”, Stannis added, putting his cup back onto the table. Melisandre rolled her eyes. “Really?”

Stannis smiled, walking over to one of his shelves and fetching some paper and a feather. “I will begin”, he declared, as the other two watched him biting into his own skin and letting a few drops of blood running into his now empty cup. Then, he dipped the feather into it and began writing onto the paper. Robb frowned deeply, but followed Stannis’ example and signed his name.

“This is so stupid”, Melisandre muttered, biting softly into the skin of her wrist to draw some blood. The feather scratched over the paper as she signed her name, leaving a scarlet trace of blood drops on the white paper. The three names seemed to glow in the candle light. Somehow, she had a really bad feeling about this.

“So”, Robb broke the silence. “Tomorrow night.”

Stannis frowned. “A little more time would be wise I believe. To prepare accordingly.”

But Robb only shook his head. “My father does not have time. We’ll need to come for Cersei before she puts him on trial. Tywin Lannister is gone for two days, she won’t risk anything in his absence. _Now_ is the perfect opportunity!”

Stannis still did not seem to convinced, but he finally nodded. “Tomorrow it is”, he concluded, sitting down on his chair again. The wound on his arm had already healed, leaving nothing but flawless, white skin. The healing went fast because of the fresh blood he had just drunken before, Melisandre’s skin was still in the process, since she had not been hunting for a few days. She would have to go today, being strengthened for the fight.

“If that’s settled then”, Robb broke the silence which had risen, “we take our leave now.” He shot a quick glance at Melisandre, before turning around and heading for the door.

She followed him, trying to ignore Stannis’ eyes which followed her. She didn’t like being allied with him, not at all, but there was no other option unfortunately.

The two of them left the mansion on their own, since Davos had taken his leave by now. The night was cool and chilly when they came out and left through the gate which opened automatically as they approached.

Robb was already getting into the car, as Melisandre stopped. “I’ll come back later, okay? I have something I have to do.” She didn’t want to say the word hunting, but she was sure he knew what she meant, since he nodded.

“Sure”, he replied, climbing into the car and closing the door.

She watched the car vanishing into the darkness, before she turned away and made her way to the city.

 

-

 

It was a little past two when she returned to the Stark house, entering through one of the windows on the ground floor and entering an empty kitchen. Somewhere in the house she could hear the soft breathing of Catelyn Stark, obviously sleeping, but there was definitely also noise in the living room, so she made her way over there.

She found Jon and Robb sitting on the small table, surprisingly playing a game of chess. They didn’t look up as she entered, being too focused on the game.

“Who’s winning?” Melisandre wanted to know, causing both of them to jump a little on their seats.

“Could you stop moving so silently?” Jon muttered, watching her approach him and sitting down next to him. “And we don’t know who’s winning yet.”   
  
Robb grinned a little. “I’m winning. As always.”

“Really”, she mused, looking over to Jon. “You weren’t that bad when we played.”

He rolled his eyes, making the next move and ignoring her statement.

His brother laughed. “You beat him?”

She shrugged. “Of course I did.” She bit her lip, noticing that Jon had just been checkmated. “Babe, you lost”, she informed him, trying not to laugh about the offended look on his face.

Robb on the other hand looked quite pleased. “I bet you couldn’t bet me!”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Oh please don’t”, he muttered.

But Melisandre’s ambition was awoken. “I bet I could!” She reached for the board and dragged it a little in her direction, rearranging the white pawns on her side.

Robb did the same with the black ones, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Jon leaned over to Melisandre. “No one in the family has ever lost against him, so please, be the first.”

She smiled a little. “Oh I will be, don’t worry.” She made the first move, leaning back in her chair and watching him do his. _This would be so much fun._

Robb made a lot of good moves, actually, she had to admit that much. He was almost as good as Stannis, always forcing her to rethink her strategy. In the end, though, he made the mistake to move his king, allowing her queen to checkmate him.

A smile crept across her lips, as she moved the pawn. “Checkmate.”

Robb’s jaw dropped, as his eyes glided over the board. “No way”, he muttered, searching for a way to escape the inevitable.

Melisandre exchanged a quick look with Jon. “Seems like you aren’t that hard to be beaten after all”, she teased his brother, causing Jon to laugh a little.

Robb snorted at the words. “Chess is stupid, anyway.”

Knowing his brother, Jon already seemed to have a bad feeling when he heard those words, since he muttered a quiet “Oh please don’t”, of course being ignored by his brother, who leaned forward a little, eyes sparkling with new ambition.

“I bet you couldn’t beat me when it comes to fighting.”

Jon next to her closed his eyes for a moment. “Honestly Robb, stop it.”

Melisandre on the other hand was quite intrigued by the offer. “I bet I could”, she countered, crossing her arms before her chest. “Let’s find out.”

Robb grinned, nodding while getting up from his chest. “Let’s find out”, he repeated. “Outside, I would say.”

Melisandre bit her lip as she stood up too, Jon watching her with disbelief in his eyes. “Don’t worry her, I can take him!” she tried to comfort him a little, but he just shook his head.

“You’re crazy. Both of you”, he just answered, but still got up to follow them. “You’re not seriously going to do this when there’s a real battle we have to fight tomorrow?”

Robb rolled his eyes in Jon’s direction. “You’re such a killjoy, brother. Try to relax once in your life.”

They reached the hallway, where Robb moved one of the shelves a little and opened a safe embedded into the wall behind it.

“What’s that?” Melisandre wanted to know, looking over to Jon for an answer.

He seemed everything but happy. “It’s where we keep our weapons.”

Quickly, Melisandre slipped under Robb’s arm and glimpsed into the safe herself, reaching for one of the long knifes inside it. It had been ages since she had held one.

Robb handed her one of the long swords too, taking one himself and then glancing over to Jon. “Do you want to join us, brother? See if your bride can beat you?”

“Thanks, I’m passing”, Jon muttered, eyes following the knife in Melisandre’s hand as she threw it in the air and caught it again. She just loved the feel of it.

Robb headed outside, turning around as he was standing in the nightly air. “You can still back away”, he said in her direction, throwing the knife onto the ground and focusing on the sword first.

Melisandre followed his example, feeling the excitement running through her veins. She had never actually fought against anyone but a range of Stannis’ men, who had all been losing terribly to her.

Jon stood next to the front door, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I don’t like this, honestly.”

His brother laughed a little. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful with her”, he assured, obviously not very helpful, since Jon continued to look quite tensed.

Melisandre was actually quite touched by his concern, but it didn’t stop her from embracing the challenge. His worry was completely unnecessary, though, since she was pretty sure she could beat Robb. He couldn’t be _that_ good.

Only a second after that thought Robb moved forward and swung the sword into her direction, aiming for the lower part of her body. She blocked it, but had to retreat a little. Robb advanced, but she forced him back. She had the advantage of being much smaller and quicker, especially since he was not a vampire. It did not take her long until he had to retreat and with one final, well placed move she knocked the sword out of his hand. Her lips curled up in a content smile, as she lifted the blade to his throat, signaling defeat.

He stared at her in disbelief, shaking his head slowly. “Another round!” He moved a step back. “Knives, this time.”

Melisandre turned around to Jon, biting her lip. “See? I can handle myself.”

He sighed in response. “Robb seriously, let that be it. She’s better than you, admit it.”

His brother was grinding his teeth. “That’s still to be proven!”

Melisandre laughed a little, picking up a knife herself and turning it in her hand. It was cold and heavy, the long blade glowing in the moonlight. She watched the reflection for a moment, before advancing blazingly fast and surprising Robb with the sudden attack. Much like in round one, it did not take her too long until she had him kneeling on the ground, her knife pressed against his throat.

Jon actually cracked a little smile at the sign of Robb’s unhappy face as he got up, watching Melisandre run over to Jon to press a short kiss to his lips. “No need to worry, you see”, she smiled, watching as Robb collected the weapons and headed back inside the house.

“I gotta say, you’re quite the skilled fighter”, he muttered in Melisandre’s direction. “You had lots of luck, of course. Not my day.”

She nodded, half ironically. “Sure”, she replied, making her way to the staircase. “I’m going upstairs, are you coming?” she asked Jon, he was on his way to follow her, but his brother held him back.

“Can we talk for a second?” Robb muttered, while closing the safe and rearranging the shelf in front of it. 

Jon frowned a little, but nodded and waited until his brother was finished, while Melisandre’s steps silently echoed through the quiet air. “What’s wrong?”  he wanted to know, still a little mad about that stupid little duel. One the other hand it had been one of his personal highlights to see Robb’s face after defeat. 

His brother watched him for a moment, a slight hint of a grin on his face. He waited a moment before answering. “She’s quite the woman”, he stated,  examining Jon’s face. “And you were quite worried about her.” 

Jon crossed his arms before his chest, making a defensive step back. “She’s five inches shorter than you, of course I’m gonna be worried about her”, he replied, trying to keep a relaxed tone of voice. He was not really sure what his brother was hinting at.

Robb rolled his eyes at the answer. “You’re so stupid sometimes, do you even realize that?” He shook his head. “You’re in love with her, right? Everyone sees that, just she doesn’t, I’m afraid. So you have to tell her, before it’s too late!”

Jon clenched his jaw a little. “Since when are you giving relationship advice?”

“Since you’re too dumb to handle things yourself!” Robb snapped, coming a little closer. “Tell her how you feel, or someone else will. Have you seen her? I’m sure you’re not her only option.”

“Wow, thanks”, Jon replied, making a face. “Really boosting my confidence.” He could not help but think of Stannis.

His brother shook his head at the sarcastic answer. “Just do it, brother, believe me. You won’t regret it.”

_And what if she doesn’t feel the same way?_ Jon turned to the staircase. “Alright. I’ll think about it.” 

Robb nodded. “You better do that. Remember my words. And-” he smiled a little. “Remember father’s words.  _Winter is coming_ . We are going into battle tomorrow. You might not have forever to tell her.” 

 


	17. Torch Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You think I’m not a goddess?   
> Try me.   
> This is a torch song,   
> touch me and you’ll burn. 
> 
> \- Margaret Atwood

The sky glowed dark red the next evening, as if the sun already knew blood was going to be shed that day. Shreds of clouds danced over the horizon as the moon and the stars rose and darkness fell over the city.

Melisandre watched it play out as she leaned against the windowsill, fingers playing with the end of her shirt. She had felt a strange kind of nervousness the entire day, as she had laid next to the sleeping Jon, thinking about what was awaiting them. She had wondered how he had even gotten to sleep, but weirdly enough he seemed to be totally calm. There was not even a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

Behind her back, the door was opened and Jon entered, after he had just had a last talk with his brother about the strategy for today. His steps echoed through the room as he crossed it and stopped next to her, leaning against the sill as well. “What’s so exciting?” he wanted to know.

Her eyes never left the night sky. “Might be the last time we all see the stars.”

There was a moment of silence following the words, which had a slight sense of doom to them. “Were not going to die”, Jon finally answered, although sounding not as convincing as he maybe should have. “We have Stannis’ support.”

 _Oh wow. What a great ally._ “The castle has never been breached before. Does Robb know that? Has he ever read a history book?” She turned away from the window, leaning her back against the wall next to it. She was sick of watching the stars sparkle in the sky as if it was just some normal night.

Jon sighed quietly. “I told you you could go.”

 _If only it was that simple,_ she thought, but never said it. There was so much she never said. “I’m not only worried about me”, was all she told him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Is Robb going to be in the vanguard?”

The sudden change of topic seemed to surprise Jon, but he nodded. “Yes, sure” He was hesitating. “He told me you can be there to if you want, but I-” he interrupted himself. “I know you can handle yourself, you demonstrated that yesterday, but I would like you to be a little more in the background.”

Melisandre bit her lip. “Where are you going to be?” She was fearing the answer.

“I have to be with Robb”, Jon replied, just as she had expected.

There was a fear in her heart that she had never felt before, and that she would not know how to explain. “I want to be with you”, was all that she said.

For a moment, there was silence again. Jon’s eyes met her own, as his fingers gently touched her collarbone. She could hear how fast his heart was beating, feeling the movement of his pulse below the skin of his wrist. It was as if the moment was frozen in time, as if they were stepped into a dream and were fighting to never wake up. The warmth of his skin crept onto the coolness of her own, matching, twisting, and exploding upon the cold like fire on ice.

But the moment passed, like everything passes, and they were painfully reminded what was going to happen in the next hours. “Stay behind, please”, Jon breathed, now so close that their foreheads were almost touching. “Do it for me.”

The look in his eyes was distracting her, almost making her feel dizzy, and unable to do anything else but nod as a response. There was so much that she could have said in that moment, but it felt too much like a goodbye, and her mouth would not form the words.

Jon pressed a slow kiss to her lips, tongue only barely touching hers, before withdrawing, but never leaving a space between them. His fingers were now on her jaw, stroking a loose curl behind her ear. “There’s something I need to tell you.” His eyes found hers, irises drawn to each other like they were linked by some inexplicable force. They were, perhaps. One could never know. “You don’t need to answer. Just listen”, he went on, never moving backwards.

Melisandre nodded, still not able to break eye contact. Even if she had wanted to, she could not have answered.

Jon took a deep breath, she could hear the air streaming into his lungs, saw his chest rise and fall with the movement. His forehead was touching hers by now, only softly joining their bodies, barely to be felt. He lifted her chin a little, fingers gently dancing across her skin. Another breath, a heartbeat of consideration. Then he spoke. _“I love you.”_ The words seemed to flow out of his mouth like a river which had been held back for too long, suddenly escaping and crushing her with the force of a wave.

She felt her jaw dropping a little, as her brain repeated the just heard. _I love you._ Every word that she could have said in that moment got stuck in her throat, as her mouth gave up to work.

Jon moved back a little, leaving her almost freezing as his warmth left her body. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine. I just wanted to let you know before-” there was a short pause, “the end, maybe”, he concluded.

Melisandre continued to stare at him in disbelief as he let go of her entirely, taking a step backwards. But his eyes never left her. She wished that he could look into her soul and see the truth that she was not able to speak, the words her lips were not able to form. But he could not, of course.

“I have to go now.” It sounded much like a last farewell. “Be careful, okay?” His expression was almost sad. For a second, he seemed to consider, then he moved in once more and placed a light kiss onto her forehead.

She closed her eyes for a moment, resting her body against his, holding on to his embrace for as long as possible. “Don’t get killed”, she managed to whisper, for more her heart was not ready yet.

“I won’t”, he promised, slowly letting go of her. “Everything is going to be fine.” It was a lie, of course, or at the very least he could not know if it was one, but it did not matter. Not in that moment.

She watched him leave in silence, shut the door behind him and listened to his steps echoing through the house as he was making his way downstairs.

 

-

 

The throne room spread out in front of her, filled to the very end with other lords and ladies of the castle. White faces looked up, fangs were shown as Eddard Stark was escorted into the room, followed by Jaime. His golden queensguard shone in the dim candle light, the long sword at his hip almost touched the ground. Cersei was sitting upon her throne, watching the happenings play out of her from above. _Oh how long she had waited for this._ Ned Stark was forced to stop at the bottom of the throne, while Jaime climbed the few stairs up to her and took his place standing next to her.

Pycelle, one of her father’s men, stepped forward, a piece of paper in his hand. “Eddard of the House Stark, you are here today to be judged for your treason against our Queen.”

It was utterly silent in the room. Stark stared up to her in anger, his eyes sparkling with fury. But he remained silent.

Pycelle continued, his voice filling the quiet. “You are to be freed from your sins if you agree to pledge your loyalty to our Queen and accepts her claim to the throne of shadows.”

This time, Stark reacted. “You will never be my Queen!”

Cersei rolled her eyes in dramatic manner, exchanging a quick look with her twin and getting up from the throne. The long train of her dress cracked a little as she stepped down the stairs, her heels clicking on the stone floor. Right in front of Ned Stark, so that she was still standing on the last level of the stairs and therefore a little taller than him, she stopped. “Poor old Ned”, she sighed. “I would think about this decision very hard if I were you. Because your son is currently marching on this castle and I am going to crush his army and hunt down every last Stark until it had vanished into nothing more than a distant memory. And believe me, it will be my pleasure.” She smiled, leaning forward a little. “But you could save them all. Bow to me, pledge your loyalty to me and only me and I will let you go home with your son.” Their eyes met for a moment. “Your choice.”

There was a moment of silent battle in his eyes, she could hear the racing of his pulse. Eventually, he nodded. “Fine”, he growled, grinding his teeth.

Cersei’s lips curled up in a smile. “I knew we would understand each other.” She gave Jaime a sign to come down, as she watched Ned Stark being escorted out of the hall.

Her twin stopped on the stairs next to her. “Father is not going to like this at all, Cers.”

“Who cares about father?” _Or his stupid talk of a legacy?_ She would be House Lannister’s legacy, if Tywin Lannister liked it or not. She would bring glory to this family. She knew she would.

They came together at the roof of the castle, providing an excellent point to view the whole area around it. Robb Stark would arrive soon, and his father needed to be ready by then.

Eddard Stark was set free of his chains and ordered to stand near the end of the roof, where his son was going to be able to see him. Pycelle was reaching for his glasses to read his paper more clearly and Jaime looked up to the cloudy sky, as the minutes went by and they could do nothing but wait.

Cold winds had risen once more, the trees were shaking in its movement and the moon was hidden behind black clouds. Only part of the horizon were still free, there a few lonely stars shone down at them. Then, suddenly, there were lights in the darkness.

Cersei stepped closer to the edge of the roof, watching the Stark boys army spread out in front of her. To her surprise, she spotted quite a few vampires among them. Feeling a hint of nervousness, she looked over to Jaime for support, but he seemed just as lost as her. She watched with a frown how Robb Stark left the his forces and approached the castle by herself, sitting on a black horse. It was more of a symbol, probably, since nowadays no one was riding into battle anymore. And to her big surprise, a much well known figure followed him, seated upon a dark brown horse. _Stannis Baratheon._ She felt Jaime tensing next to her, as the two of them stopped below them, just far enough from the walls that they could still be seen. The Stark boy seemed to have spotted his father.

“Let him say the words”, Cersei told Jaime, looking over to Eddard Stark.

Jaime pushed him closer to the edge, letting him face his son. “Say what you want to say, Stark”, he growled into his ear. “But think very carefully about it.”

There was a moment of excited tension, as silence filled the air. Then Eddard Stark rose his voice. “I am Eddard Stark. I come before you to confess my treason.”

Cersei could hear Robb Stark drawing in a sharp breath. A smile danced over her face.

“Let all of you be witness to what I say”, his father continued. His voice was steady, filling the nightly air. “Cersei Lannister is the one true heir to the throne of shadows. Every other claim is hereby false.”

Pycelle stepped forward, wringing his hands nervously. “This man has confessed his treason and should therefore-”

Jaime stepped closer to Cersei. “They will not leave. Give them Eddard Stark, but Stannis will not withdraw.”

He was right, of course. Her plan would not work.

Pycelle went on. “Should therefore be set free and-”

“No.” Cersei’s voice echoed through the night, interrupting the old mans hazy speech. She turned around, facing Eddard Stark. “His crimes can not be forgiven. He must be punished.”

Below her, Robb Stark’s horse stepped forward. Stannis held him back.

“Eddard Stark, I sentence you to die.” One of her knights stepped forward at the words, drawing his long sword. Cersei’s eyes went down to Stannis Baratheon, sitting on his horse as if frozen to ice.

Robb Stark’s eyes were sparkling with fury. “Cersei!” he yelled up to her, voice echoing from the high walls. “Give me my father and I will leave! Refuse and I will tear your walls down and burn you right within your wicked castle!”

 _Oh it would be fun to watch him try that._ “The sentence stands”, she repeated, watching as the knight drew his sword and lifted it in the air. Below her, one could hear the distant yelling of Robb Stark.

The blade cut through the air, as Eddard Stark took his last breath, and then all hell broke loose.

 

-

 

It was one big chaos, the battle. Melisandre had no idea where she even was or who she was supposed to fight, since Stannis’ men looked just like Cersei’s did. Besides that, an awful lot of arrows was raining down on them from the castle walls, so she had to be careful not to be hit by one of those.

Actually, after Cersei Lannister has spontaneously decided to behead Eddard Stark, she had meant to go and search for Jon, but she had no idea where he might be in all of this mess. She could not know how he felt, of course, since she had no memory of her parents at all, but she could imagine it. And she would rather be with him right now.

She had actually managed to get closer to the walls of the castle and to the vanguard, but it was too dark and too crowded to actually search properly. In addition, she was in the middle of the battle, so Cersei’s men did try to attack her from time to time, forcing her to focus on them.

In the shadow of the castle, it was a little more calm, after she had managed to not be hit by an arrow or whatever they were throwing from there walls. She was walking close to the dark stone walls now, trying to blend into the shadows to remain unnoticed. A few hundred meters away from her she had spotted Stannis, still on his horse and busy with getting rid of some of Cersei’s men. She didn’t manage to find Jon, though, and Robb was nowhere to be seen either.

She continued walking, suddenly noticing a window not too far above her. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she jumped upwards and softly landed on the small stone windowsill, keeping her balance and pushing it open. Carefully, she slipped inside and landed in a rather dark hallway. The sound of battle was echoing through the hollow walls, magnifying and sounding strangely twisted. Without making a noise, she took the way right, since there seemed to be a light at the end of the hallway.

The next room seemed to be similar to an entrance hall, since it was huge and lighted with candles and the big door embedded into the back wall was guarded by two knights, wearing shining golden armour. She had no idea what the gold was supposed to mean, but she could guess it was some important position. Still, she could probably take them.

For a moment, she considered to just go back. This was not her fight, after all. _And still…_ something held her back. Maybe it was the distant echo of the _I love you_ in her mind or maybe it was just her general recklessness, but she felt like she had to do something, now that she was here. She let another heartbeat pass, then stepped out of the shadow.

“Hey boys”, she smiled, two heads instantly turning to her.

The first one had just opened his mouth to exclaim something, but she had already reached him and buried her knife in his throat. The second was much quicker to react and blocked her hit, pushing her back against the wall, but she managed to escape his counter hit, jump over his head and cut his throat from behind. She kicked the body away, content with herself. _That had been easy._

Her eyes traveled over to the door next to her, which was richly decorated with both gold and gem stones. The throne room, perhaps. And perhaps also where she would be able to find Cersei Lannister. She bit her lip for a moment, drawing her sword instead of the knife. There was no going back now.

She pushed the door open.


	18. Dance of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “she wore strength and darkness equally well;   
> the girl has always been half goddess,   
> half hell”  
> \- Nikita Gill

The fighting slowed down a little as the night grew longer, most of the actual combat happening more far away from the castle walls. Jon had managed to get closer and hide in the shadow of the walls, trying to calm down a little. Death vampires laid scattered around him, blood reddening the earth. Not far away from him, Stannis was scanning their faces searching for men which belonged to him, kneeling down and feeding them some of his own blood. Obviously that was speeding up the heeling process, since some of them began to move and slowly regain consciousness.

Jon was searching for his brother among the fighters, but couldn’t find him anywhere. He had wanted to speak with him after their father’s death, but Robb had not been able to listen. He was blaming himself, quite obviously, and the only thing that could soothe that pain would be Cersei Lannister’s head separated from her body. Which was not going to happen, at least not tonight. The castle was too strong, they were never going to breach it. But did Robb realize that? Jon was not too sure.

Another person that could not quite leave his mind was Melisandre, since he had not seen her since he had left her in his room. He would have expected that she came to search for him on the battlefield, making her way to the vanguard, but it seemed like she didn’t. He looked around again, eyes traveling through the darkness.

Fog had been rising, cold wind was tearing at his body and he was freezing. The moon was vanished behind a quick layer of clouds, the starlight had died. The only light came from the illuminated windows of the castle behind him, glowing against the dark night.

Suddenly, Jon recognized a dim source of light right above his head, turning around and seeing a window, half opened, and not too high above the ground. For a moment, he just stared at the glass, behind which a candle flame seemed to dance. He was not sure what it was, but something just caught his attention and kept his eyes drawn to the window, not able to look away. Something was not right. An inexplicable sense of distant foreshadowing befell him and out of a sudden, he was absolutely and utterly certain of what to do.

With one quick jump, he had landed on the windowsill, careful that no one was noticing him entering the castle. But Stannis was still busy with his men, the fighting distracted most of the other men and Robb was nowhere to be seen, anyway. He disappeared to the inside of the castle, leaving the screams and horrors of battle behind him and diving into the silence of the thick stone walls.

He took the way to his right, more out instinct than anything else, and continued walking as quietly as possible. His heart was trembling in his chest, his fingers pressed around the top of his sword. The hallway came to an end with a corner, behind which another room was hidden. He was unable to see any further, so he slowed down and stopped, still in the shadows. A strange smell was in the air, something which was so familiar, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. He needed a few seconds until realization hit him. It was blood. That thought at the back of his mind, he stepped around the corner, preparing mentally for what might be in front of him.

Two guards laid scattered on the floor, both dripped in blood and most probably dead. Their weapons were drawn and had fallen beside them, their golden armor had not even one scratch. It was a strange picture, really. Almost amusing, if it weren’t for the horror of it.

Jon was now standing in front of a huge door, strongly decorated with all kinds of riches.

The air was quick with silence, the distant sounds of battle had long died. Slowly, he reached out for the door handle, pressing it downwards and pushing the heavy door open.

In front of him, the throne room unfolded in all of its glory. Decorations of gold and gem stones covered the walls, huge candles between them, and long banners with Lannister symbols on it, the golden lion screaming on a crimson field. At the other end of it, the throne of shadows had its place, taking up almost the entire space of the back wall.

For a moment, everything was so magnificent that he did not even realize that he was not in fact alone. It was not before he met a pair of burning red eyes that he noticed Cersei Lannister, standing in front of her throne. Her glance rested on him for a moment, before it shifted over to her brother, who was standing a few feet away from her, sword still drawn. Scarlet drops dripped onto the marble floor, as slow as if time had a different meaning inside these walls.

Jon’s eyes traveled over the reddened blade, over the stone bathed in blood, to the body with was laying right in front of Jaime Lannister. Perhaps the view of so much blood had slowed his mind, but it did take him a few seconds to realize that it was in fact Melisandre. And even after this realization, he didn’t know what to make of it. The information did not seem to be processed in his mind.

The Lannister twins exchanged another quick look, the air seemed to vibrate as Jaime pushed the sword back into its cover. Without a word, he turned away and walked over to Cersei, his steps distantly echoing from the stone walls. His sister followed him over to the second exit, never saying a word. But Jon noticed the little smile before the door hid her from his eyes, and just in the moment where it fell shut, he realized what was happening.

He knelt down next to Melisandre, trying to ignore the sick feeling inside his stomach at the thought of all the blood. Surprisingly, her eyes were still half open, lids flattering at the movement as he carefully touched her cheek. It might have only been his imagination and the panic inside of him, but she did feel even colder than usually. His fingers were trembling as he searched for her pulse, stroking over the coldness of her skin.

She shifted a little at the touch. “You know that I’m technically already dead, right?” It was barely more than a whisper, but still audible. “You won’t find my pulse.”

This was hardly the situation for joking in his opinion, but at least that meant that she was still alive. “Are you in pain?” he wanted to know, judging from all the blood, probably yes. He was not even sure where she was injured, for he did not dare to touch anything else but her face.

“I’m fine”, she muttered, eyes opening a little. “But I won’t be for long if I don’t heal. I need blood.”

 _Of course she did._ “Okay”, he replied quickly, reaching for his knife and cutting softly along his wrist, careful not to draw too much blood. He then lowered his arm down to her mouth, feeling her teeth dig into his flesh. He had expected it to hurt, but surprisingly it was rather… pleasing, one could say. It felt good, somehow.

Melisandre rested her head back on the floor as she withdrew from him, licking the rest of blood from her lips. He saw her swallowing hardly. “It’s not going to last”, she sighed, closing her eyes for a second. “I need human blood.”

Panic befell him, a fear which cut deep into each and every one of his bones, but which he of course couldn’t show her. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down his heartbeat. Unsuccessfully, though. _He could not lose her._ Not like this. “Where do we get blood?” he asked slowly, watching her pale face as she opened her eyes again.

“Most vampires keep some somewhere for emergencies”, she replied, voice still quite weak. “I’m sure there is some in a castle this big.”

Jon nodded quickly, glad to have some hope to cling to. “Then we’ll search for it.”   
To his surprise, she smiled a little. “Okay. Start with the basement”, she muttered, lids falling shut again.

He took another deep breath, calming his racing thoughts. He would save her. They would get blood and it would all be okay. In the meantime, he just had to keep her awake. Carefully, he lifted her up from the floor, resting her body in his arms. “What were you doing here, anyway?” he asked, since he could not think of another question at the moment. His mind was awfully blank.

Melisandre laughed a little, looking up to him for a moment. “I guess I just like playing the hero.”

“I guess you do”, Jon answered, reaching the hallway and stopping for a moment, hesitation. Then he turned left, the opposite way from where he had come. He was hoping that they were not going to meet anyone, since he could hardly fight while carrying Melisandre around. Fortunately, the hallway remained empty, and after a minute of walking they reached a staircase, leading downstairs.

She moved a little in his arms, head resting against his chest. “Go down there. I can smell it.”

Jon nodded, carefully making his way downstairs and hoping that she was right. She probably did not have much time left. They reached another hallway, a door at the end separating them from the next room. He pushed it open without much thinking, freezing in surprise at the sight of what was behind it. The room was filled with freezers, reaching from floor to ceiling. Every last one of them was filled with little bags of blood, the scarlet liquid standing in sharp contrast to the white plastic of the freezers. Jon’s heartbeat calmed down a little. Carefully not to hurt her, he sat Melisandre down onto the floor, leaning her back against one of the freezers.

She smiled a little as he did so, but remained silent.

Jon quickly opened the nearest freezer, pulling two bags out and handing them over to her. The air was cold enough to make him shiver, so he quickly closed the door again and took a few deep breaths.

Melisandre ripped the bags open with her teeth, blood dripping from her lips as she drank. The color strangely tied in with that of her eyes and hair, scarlet liquor glooming in the white light of the freezers. Melisandre’s eyes seemed to have grown darker with each drop of blood touching her tongue, pupils widening and making her iris appear almost black. It stood in sharp contrast to the paleness of her skin, looking almost see through as the veins on her neck shimmered weakly red. It was an inexplicable sort of darkness to her in that moment, a feeling that filled the room only for the few seconds in which she drank.

Jon tried to look somewhere else as she did so, but found himself strangely fascinated by it.

As she finished, her eyes met his for a moment. She lifted her top a little, exposing the huge wound at her stomach. Jon’s jaw dropped a little as she skin began to grow back in front of his eyes, making the wound grow smaller and smaller. “Crazy, isn’t it?” she whispered, putting her top down. “What a little blood can do.”

He nodded slowly. The relief hit him, since she already looked a lot better.

Melisandre seemed to notice. “Your heartbeat is slowing down”, she grinned, biting her lip. “I was afraid your heart might jump out of your chest!”

Jon rolled his eyes, leaning his back against one of the freezers. He felt the cold bite into his skin. “You gave me quite the shock.”

She smiled apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Slowly, she stood up, the wound seeming to have healed entirely by now. She made a step towards him, but then hesitated and stopped, as if she had just realized what she was doing. For some reason, she was holding back. He could see the insecurity in her eyes. “Thank you for coming for me”, she said quietly, fingers playing with her hair. Another moment of hesitation, silence filling the room. Melisandre’s eyes met his own. A heartbeat passed, and another.

Then she stepped forward, closing the distance behind him, and kissed him, out of a sudden. Her lips were as cold as her body as she melted into his arms, fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, and her tongue found his. He reached for her hips and pulled her a little closer, not a space left between their bodies.

She withdrew much too early for his taste, resting her forehead against his for a moment and remaining in that position.

Their eyes met for a moment, before Melisandre quickly looked away and took a sudden step backwards. “We should get out of here.” She bit her lip, turning away from him.

He was wondering what she was so afraid of. Was it falling in love? He had seen it in her eyes as he had told her he loved her, that fear in her face, she way she had backed away like an animal forced into a corner. She had just done it again. Whenever he was beginning to come closer to her, she was stepping away.

Melisandre was at the door already, pushing the handle down and stepping out into the hallway. She was running away once more.

He followed her out of the room, walking over to the staircase. “We have to leave before the battle ends!”

Melisandre shook her head. “Too late for that, I don’t hear any fighting anymore. I think they’re already coming back inside!” She was already on the first stair. “We need to hurry.”

Jon sighed, before nodding and hurrying to keep up with her.

The hallway was fortunately still empty, but the windows imbedded in the walls already barred with blinds. “It’s only one hour until dawn, obviously they like to be extra safe and let them down earlier”, Melisandre commented, nervously biting her lip. “If we don’t want to be stuck here until sundown, we better get moving now.” She seemed to consider for a moment. “I might be able to break one of those blinds.”

“Takes too long”, he replied, walking further in the direction where they had come from. “Let’s get back to where we came from.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but followed him nonetheless. “What if we meet anyone?”

Jon grinned a little. “We kill them.”

To his surprise, Melisandre laughed. “That’s the spirit, babe!”

They reached the door of the throne room once again, door still opened as they had left them. The guards were still laying on the ground, as if no time had passed at all, only the smell of blood in the air which had become rotten and stronger by now.

“Great work here”, Jon commented, careful not to step into any of the blood spatters on the floor. “I wish you would have finished Cersei Lannister the same way.” Now that he had actual time to think about it, he really wished the Lannister Queen would lay in front of him the same way. It would have been only fair. One head for another.

Melisandre looked at him for a moment, eyes filled with a distant kind of worry. “I’m sorry about your father.” There was a short silence. “But we’ll make her pay. Just not today.”

They continued their walk down the hallway, Jon’s steps silently echoing from the walls. Neither one seemed to know what to say anymore, so they just chose silence.

As they finally reached the window they had searched for, Melisandre took a moment to break the blinds and rip them from the glass, exposing an already quite light night sky. “We don’t have much time left”, she muttered, climbing onto the window sill and letting herself fall onto the ground. The battlefields was empty by now, good for them, probably, only a few dead bodies were left scattered around.

Jon followed her out the window, eyes searching the sky above them. “I guess we’ll make it back just in time.”

She nodded. “I should hope so, unless I want to end up burning to ashes.”

He rolled his eyes at the words. “Let’s get going.”

After tonight’s happenings, there were quite some things to be sorted out.


	19. Syzygy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I saw galaxies in your eyes"

It was only minutes before dawn when they finally arrived at Stark mansion, obviously after everyone else, since Robb already met them halfway to the door.

“Where have you been?” he greeted them, shaking his head. “We thought you were dead!”

Jon looked over to Melisandre, who seriously looked as if she was going to pass out any moment.

“If I stay another moment in daylight I will soon”, she replied to Robb’s statement, walking past him.

His brother rolled his eyes. “Where have you been?” he repeated, now looking to Jon. “Seriously, we were worried.”

Jon clenched his jaw. “We had some business with Cersei Lannister. I’ll tell you later.” We was holding the door open for Melisandre, who seemed awfully pale yet again. He exchanged a quick look with his brother. “I have to get her upstairs first.”

“Fine”, Robb muttered, closing the door behind the three of them. “Stannis wants so speak to us, too, this evening. He’s not quite happy with the way the battle turned out.”

Jon gave his brother a quick nod, before turning to the stairs. He hesitated for a second, considering, but then he picked Melisandre off the floor and placed her in his arms.

Protest came instantly, of course. “I’m still capable of walking myself”, she insisted, but he just ignored her and began carrying her upstairs anyway, always aware of Robb’s amused look. “What are you doing?” Melisandre muttered, still doing her best to continue to look angry, even though he could feel her body relaxing and leaning a little against his chest.

“Making sure you’re not burning to ashes”, Jon replied, reaching their floor and opening the door, doing his best to not have her bump against anything.

She rolled her eyes at him, but remained silent.

The blinds were down already, fortunately, so the room was barely at all. Jon put her down on the bed, but of course, being her stubborn self, she had to immediately stand up again. He sighed. “Why don’t you just lay down for a minute?”

She shrugged. “I want to get out of this dress.” She stopped in front of him, her back facing him. “Help me with the zipper?”

“Of course”, he muttered, stroking the red curls away and opening the back of her dress. His fingers touched the bones of her spine for a second, making her shiver. He could feel the trembling of her skin.

Quickly, she moved away, letting the dress fall onto the ground and walking back to the bed in her underwear only. He did his best not to stare. Exactly what she wanted, probably.

Jon cleared his throat. “I better go talk to Robb, before he dies of impatience!”

She smiled. “Okay.”

For a moment, their eyes met. The exchange lasted a little longer than it normally would have, eyes not quite able to let each other go. Finally, he turned away, opening the door and leaving the room.

In moments like these, he did not quite know what to feel. Was he just a hopeless romantic or was there actually some spark between them? Or did he only imagine these glances which lasted a little too long, the touches which felt a little too intimate?

He found his brother in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and eating a piece of pizza. The open box sat beside him. It was a strange picture, really. Robb looked up as Jon entered the room. “Brother, you came just right. The pizza just came!”

Jon frowned. “You ordered pizza? At 5 am?”

His brother shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’re not hungry!” He shoved the box over to Jon. “And now tell me what you did all night! Please don’t tell me you decided to have your wedding night in the midst of blood and dead bodies.”

“Can you please shut up”, Jon muttered, reaching for the pizza. He was actually wondering how Robb could be this cheerful after what had happened the last night, but he had the suspicion that he just hadn’t realized it yet. The hurt would come. And in his case, the anger, too. He would want revenge.

Robb rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t be so grumpy all the time!”

There was a moment of silence. “We were in the castle”, Jon finally said. It was a little hard to explain everything, so he stuck with the short version. “Melisandre tried to kill Cersei, failed, and we escaped. That’s what took us so long.”

His brother clenched his jaw at the words. Suddenly, there was darkness in his eyes. “If I ever get hold of that woman who calls herself queen I’m going to rip her heart out and feed it to her own soldiers. Grief is for later, what we want now is revenge.”

“Very vivid”, Jon replied, frowning again. “Too bad that she is safely guarded in her castle and unable to reach.”

Robb was grinding his teeth. “Stannis is furious about that.”

Jon only shrugged. “Let him.” Honestly, an angry Stannis was the smallest problem they had to face at the moment. “How is Catelyn holding up?” he wanted to know then, looking over to his brother.

“She swears to kill Cersei herself if she ever gets a hand on her”, Robb replied, almost sounding a little proud. But Jon could also see the sadness deep within his brother’s eyes, the same sadness he felt, too. Maybe the wound was still to fresh. Perhaps Robb still hadn’t realized his father was never coming back. Jon had, though, and even though the grief was there, he shared the wish for revenge. If he had too, he would personally go back and finish what Melisandre started today. _Cersei Lannister had to pay._ The Lannisters weren’t the only ones paying their debts.

“And the clans?” Jon continued. “How many did we lose? Are they still willing to fight?”

Robb sighed. “I don’t know. That’s a matter for later, I think.” He moved away from the counter. “I have to go, Jeyne is upstairs.” He grinned a little. “You should get back to your girl too!”

“Please don’t continue talking”, Jon sighed, shaking his head. “Just get back to Jeyne and shut up.”

Robb laughed at the words. “Are you still pretending you aren’t into her?” he yelled, while leaving the room. His steps on the stairs echoed through the house.

 

-

 

 

The voices on the ground floor died, as Melisandre heard Robb’s steps on the stairs coming up. She rolled onto her back, eyes traveling along the ceiling. Actually, she didn’t want to listen in. But they kind of had spoken so loudly that she had no other choice… at least that was what she told herself. She bit her lip. _Are you still pretending you aren’t into her,_ Robb had said.

Doubtfully, she sat up in the bed. He had said he loved her. He had said it and she had not answered. And that was okay, or for that moment it had been okay, but now she felt like she had to say it back. And she wanted to do it, but something inside her seemed to hold her back. Fear, perhaps.

Jon’s steps were on the stairs now, too, he was walking upstairs. She could hear the soft beat of his heart. What was she supposed to do now?

Quickly, she got up from the bed, walking over to the drawer and searching for something to wear over her underwear. She felt like it was maybe a little too distracting. One of her dresses had to do, since it was the only thing available at the moment. She slipped into it, closing the zipper as far as possible and then sat back on the bed, all before Jon had even reached the second level.

The door cracked quietly as he opened it, entering the room and pushing it shut behind him. His eyes found hers, resting there for a moment. The soft light of the candle they had put on the drawer reflected in his pupils. “How are you feeling?” he wanted to know, but remained standing, keeping a certain level of distance.

Melisandre bit her lip, before climbing to the edge of the bed and standing up as well. She was hoping he couldn’t see how nervous she was. It was probably also not the right time at all, since his father had just died and he had lost a battle, but she had the feeling that if she wouldn’t say it now, she would never do it.

His eyes followed her as she moved closer, his body never moving. He did not withdraw, though, which was a good sign. But she could hear the pace of his heart quickening.

Melisandre gave her best not to look into his eyes, in fear of being caught by them once again. Unfortunately, she failed and his iris found hers, gray meeting red and instantly pulling her towards him. Their bodies were almost touching, his warmth radiating on her cold skin. She could feel herself trembling. Hopefully Jon wouldn’t notice. Their faces were very close, much too close for her to concentrate, his breath was on her face and the sound of his pulse echoed through her ears.

It was too much, for a moment. She had forgotten what to say. Probably, she had also forgotten how to speak at all, since her lips did not seem willing to move anymore. And so she just stared into his eyes, drowning in a deep gray sea.

She didn’t even feel his lips on hers for the first second, but only when his tongue touched hers. His fingers were on her neck, her own had sunk into the fabric of his shirt.

There was a tenderness in this moment she had only known with Jon, so far, something much different than anything she had ever felt. Love, perhaps. Was this what it felt like?

He withdrew much too quickly, restoring a small bit of space between their faces. She did not dare to loosen the grip of her fingers, in fear that they might be shaking. She felt like shaking, most definitely.

“So you’re feeling better?” Jon broke the silence, words barely more than a whisper breached against her lips.

She never moved. “Yes.”

His eyes traveled down to her lips, then up again. He was hesitating, waiting for her next move.

Actually, she felt utterly incapable of saying anything. But in that next moment, out of a sudden, it felt so easy. The words just sort of fell from her lips, filling the silence they had built around them. They almost sounded strange in her eyes, as if they had come from another person. She had never felt the movement of her lips. _“I love you.”_

Jon’s eyes widened for a moment, confusing surfacing. It took him a few heartbeats to understand. With the softest move of a hand, his finger’s touched her cheek. There was no need to say anything, in that second. As if for a while, the world had fallen back together. The light of the candle was still dancing in his eyes. It looked like a whole galaxy was hidden behind the gray.

Their lips met again, more intense this time. His hands moved down her body, along her waist and onto her back. Melisandre could feel his fingers playing with the half-closed zipper.

For a second, she was surprised. Not unpleasantly, though. She broke the kiss for an instance. “Now?”

He nodded. “Unless you don’t want to.”

She smiled a little. “Yeah right, because it was my idea to wait.”

Jon rolled his eyes at her, joining their lips once more, while opening her zipper completely and letting the dress fall to the ground. His fingers on her naked skin made her shiver.

Her hands traveled over his shirt and pulled it over his head, letting it join the dress on the ground. She pressed her body against his, feeling the heat of his skin as their lips continued to meet. It felt as if the world had stopped around them, as if it was no longer revolving around the sun.

His arms closed around her waist and lifted her up, so that she could wrap her legs around his body. She could feel the beat of his heart against her chest, the rhythm echoing through her head. Her mind was blank, all she could feel was him. It was perfect, in that moment. Somewhere deep in her mind, she wondered if it was going to last. _Did anything ever really last?_

Jon let her down on the bed, lips pressing soft kisses onto her jaw and collar bone. She could feel herself trembling under his touch. For a second, he hesitated, lightly stroking a curl behind her ear. Their eyes met, and she felt like drowning. He joined their lips again, tongues dancing passionately. It felt unreal, dream-like. Even though she knew she couldn’t dream anymore.

Jon got rid of his jeans and unhooked her bra, kisses traveling down to her breast. She could feel his teeth sucking into her skin, probably leaving violet marks against her pale skin.

For a moment, she pulled back a little. “Can I try something?” she whispered, biting her bottom lip to stop the grin of her lips.

“What exactly?” he wanted to know, pressing a last kiss onto her jaw, before restoring some space between their bodies.

With a quick move, she turned him around, now sitting on top of him. “You’re gonna like it”, she promised, beginning to kiss along his jawline and throat.

She could feel his soft pulse on her lips, beating under her skin. The warmth of his skin radiated against her body. Gently, just barely opening her lips, she bit into his skin, drawing only the tiniest amount of blood. She could hear him draw a sharp breath, but relax only a second later. With the softest of kisses, she continued to draw blood, just enough so it would reach the tip of her tongue. His fingers were on her back, traveling along her spine and pressing her closer against him.

Melisandre joined their lips again, sucking a little at his bottom lip. Within a second, she was below him again.

His forehead rested against hers for a few seconds, only holding her in his embrace. His fingers were stroking her cheek. His eyes seemed to sparkle, stars hidden within the deep gray. His heartbeat was racing.

“ _I love you_ ”, he breathed against her lips, finishing of with a gentle brush of his lips against hers. “And I think we waited long enough.”

She smiled a little. “I agree.”

Time seemed to have ended. There was nothing but the two of them for a little while.


	20. The King in the North

It was twenty past 8pm when Jon stirred next to her for the first time, turning around and rolling onto the other side of the bed. This breathing quickened a little, indicating that he was waking up slowly.

Melisandre bit her lip, fingers nervously playing with the sheets. This was the moment she had feared. What would it be like, now? What would _they_ be like? Her eyes traveled over to Jon’s body, who was now turning around to face her.

Deep gray eyes faced her for a second, before she broke eye contact. “Hey”, he muttered, sitting up in the sheets. There was a softness in his voice she had never heard from anyone else, making her warm some kind of warm inside.

She smiled a little, before shoving her blanket away and climbing out of the bed. She had to get away from this, she needed space to think. He watched her, of course, his eyes followed her every move. This time, it made her feel uncomfortable.

In the middle of the room, she stopped, considering. Sorting out her thoughts. The inexplicable fear she always felt was back, paralyzing her body. She was not even sure what scared her so much.

The blanket rustled quietly, as Jon got up from the bed and approached her slowly. “What’s wrong?” he wanted to know, real worry in his voice. He stopped a few paces away from her, still giving her space.

She gave her best not to look at him. “Nothing”, she muttered, biting her lip so heavily she was almost drawing blood.

Jon reached for her hand, softly turning her around so she was forced to look at him. “What is it?” he tried again, this time more urgently.

In that moment, she was just so sorry. What was she even doing here? She had said that she loved him. She had opened up. And now that was going to be used against her, someday, in some way. But of course she could not say that. She wouldn’t know how. “I can’t do this”, was all she managed to get out.

He frowned for a moment, still holding her hand in his. Then he sighed. “What are you so afraid of? What do you think could happen?” There was a moment of silent eye contact. “I won’t leave”, he added, at last.

“Eventually everyone does.” She was not even sure why she said it, but she had the feeling that she had had a feeling like this before. In another life, maybe. Some time she couldn’t remember, but that had still left scars deep in her mind.

Somehow, he seemed to have read her mind. “Who left you?”

Slowly, she shook her head. There was something in her mind, some distant memory, but she was not quite able to grasp it. As if something was blocking it. It must have happened before she was turned, then, because after that she had lost all her memory. “I don’t know”, she whispered, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “I can’t remember.”

There was a moment of silence that followed, no one quite knowing what to say next. Melisandre listened to Jon’s heartbeat, trying to calm herself down. It was an oddly soothing sound.

Finally, he took the word. “I won’t leave”, he simply said. “I promise.”

She could not help but smile at that promise. Because she believed him, she really did, even though the feeling at the back of her mind was still there. She had meant to say something, but a knock on the door cut her off.

“Jon?” they heard Robb’s voice from the hallway. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need you. It’s important!”

Jon rolled his eyes at the words, sighing deeply, before letting go of her hand. “I’ll be back.”

“I know”, she smiled, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “You have to, now that you promised it.”

He laughed a little, walking over to the door and shutting it behind him.

Melisandre remained standing for a moment, thinking about what had just happened. A question had arisen again. Why had she lost all memory of her former life? She knew very certainly that it was not the case for every vampire, even though Stannis had always given his best to hide that from her. Maybe he had something to do with it, after all. Perhaps she had to ask him.

Without further hesitation, she walked over to the window and pulled the blinds up. The sun had not yet entirely disappeared, but was weak enough for her to be able to walk in it, since it was also heavily hidden by clouds. Quickly, she opened the window and slipped outside, landing on the soft grass without making any noise. The Starks would not even notice she was gone. But she had to get answers. Now.

 

-

 

The leaders of the other clans were waiting for them as Robb and Jon left the house, all seated around a huge fire. Quiet mumbling and fire cracking was filling the air, above them the sky had not yet grown dark. It was getting cold, Jon was freezing even in his warm jacket.

The brothers sat down next to Catelyn, who Jon hadn’t seen since his father had been murdered. The grief was still deep in her eyes as she looked up to greet them, her smile weak and emotionless. If she shared Robb’s will for revenge, she did not show it.

Greatjon Umber was the first to speak, getting up from the tree trunk he had been sitting on. “So we are loyal to Stannis now? Support his claim to the throne?”

His words were directed at Robb, who was frowning deeply.

“What has Stannis Baratheon ever done for us? His hatred of wolves is almost as widely known as his hatred of the Lannister family!”

Robb’s eyes seemed to glow in the light of the fire, making him appear unusually threatening. “May I remind you that Cersei Lannister had my father executed? You can’t mean to stand with her!”

There was a moment of silence, in which Lord Umber seemed to consider his next words. Everyone had grown oddly quiet. “Believe me, I don’t, my lord”, he finally replied, eyes still at Robb. “That was not what I was trying to propose here.”

Jon looked over to his brother, who seemed to relax a little at the words. Hopefully he could control his temper tonight.

Robb was nodding. “Continue with your proposal. Who do you suggest we support? Renly Baratheon is dead, so is Margaery Tyrell. Loras Tyrell has rallied with the Lannisters. There’s no one left to stand behind apart from Stannis.”

The Greatjon shook his head at the words. “What do they know of us? They are vampires, they only care for themselves. But we, we are wolves. Why would we need a bunch of selfish Vampires to take care of our affairs? Why can’t we govern ourselves again? Like in the old days?”

A great silence followed the words, in which no one even seemed to breathe. Jon’s eyes traveled to Catelyn Stark, whose face showed more worry than anything else. Everyone seemed to know what would happen next, someone just had to say it.

Greatjon Umber turned to Robb, reaching for his sword and pointing it in his direction. “There sits the only king I will ever bend the knee to!” He fell to his knees, the sword in front of him. _“The_ _K_ _ing in the_ _No_ _rth!”_

Jon felt as if he was in a dream. What was happening here? His eyes met those of Catelyn, who looked just as surprised as he felt.

Robb got up from his seat, the light of the fire reflecting in his eyes. It appeared as if his gaze was burning.

Theon Greyjoy came forward, sword in his hands. Theon had been with their family for as long as Jon could recall, since he was the only wolf in his family and had therefore needed a new home. “Am I your brother, now and always?” he asked, waiting for Robb to nod and then kneeling down next to Lord Umber. “My sword is yours, in victory and defeat.”

Jon took a deep breath, before standing up himself. He exchanged a quick look with his brother as he knelt next to Theon, hands resting on his sword. “The King in the North”, he simply said.

“The King in the North!” someone else shouted, “The King in the North”, someone else. Numerous others got up from their seats, sword were drawn and within a minute every other clan leader around them was kneeling.

“The King in the North!” was echoing through the night.

 

-

 

It had grown dark when she arrived at Stannis’, the mansion only a shadow against the dark night’s sky. The moon was covered by thick clouds, probably carrying rain, the sight of the stars was hidden. A cold wind had risen, making the trees bend and rustle.

She entered the house her usual way, climbing through a window and beginning to search for Stannis by walking over to his library. It was no surprise that she found him there, going through one of his shelves looking for a book. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, since she had made no sound approaching.

She watched him for a moment, being so concentrated on his books. Then she broke the silence. “Stannis.”

He shrieked a little, turning around to meet her eyes. “Melisandre”, he replied coldly. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

To be honest, she was surprised how distant he sounded. She hadn’t done anything wrong, had she? At least she could not recall anything. It was not her fault the battle had been lost. “What’s wrong?” she therefore wanted to know, leaning in the door frame.

Stannis’ face was frozen. “Your brother in law broke out contract. But I suppose you know about that.”

She frowned in surprise. What was he talking about? The alliance had not been broken, at least not as far as she was concerned. “No, he didn’t”, she replied, crossing her arms before her chest. “Why would you say that? Just because you lost the battle?”

He clenched his jaw. “Robb Stark declared himself King tonight.” His eyes were burning with fury. “Now he claims my throne. _My throne_!” His voice grew louder with the last words and she was almost afraid. “Now I have Cersei Lannister sitting in my castle in the South and Robb Stark sitting in his mansion in the North!” He was almost shouting by now.

Melisandre remained silent, considering whether she should say something or not. Usually, her silence angered him even more. If she was being honest, she was quite surprised that Robb had the wish to be King himself.

On the other hand, that was not her problem and she didn’t care much either and that had not been the reason she had visited Stannis tonight. “Your personal problems with the Starks aren’t the reason I’m here tonight”, she tried to introduce the topic, which probably had been a mistake, since it seemed to make Stannis even more furious.

“I don’t care about your reasons”, he growled, continuing to clench his jaw so heavily she was afraid it might break. He was beginning to pace through the room, nervously running his hands through his hair and beard.

Melisandre rolled her eyes at the words. Why did he always have to be so dramatic? “I want to know why I can’t recall anything of my past.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds, as Stannis gave his best to ignore them for as long as possible. Then he stopped pacing. “I told you to never ask me about that again.”

“And I told you that I want to know”, she insisted, approaching him slowly, since he seemed to cool down a little.

“I don’t know anything about that”, Stannis replied coldly, turning away. “And honestly, I have much bigger problems than your little amnesia.”

She had expected that he would react like this, still she was disappointed. Could he not understand that she _had_ to know? “Is it your fault?” she asked, ignoring the warning voice in her head that told her to be quiet. “Did you make me forget everything? So you could program me the way you needed me to be in order to fit into your plan?”

She knew him well enough to know she had crossed the line with the last sentence, but she didn’t care anymore. She wanted to know.

As expected, Stannis jumped at the words. Within a second, she was pressed backwards against the door frame, his hands at her throat. His face was only inched from hers. “I told you to never speak of this matter again”, he growled, anger sparkling from his eyes. “You know what I’ll do to your husband when someone finds out about this?”

Melisandre swallowed hard. Oh yes, she knew. “You wouldn’t dare”, she whispered, sounding much more confident than she actually was.

Out of a sudden, Stannis let go of her. There was a smile on his lips, the kind of smile that scared her. “You think I wouldn’t?” His red eyes seemed almost black in the dim light. “Then I suppose I need to show you how serious I am.”

 _He wouldn’t._ She gave her best to hide her fear, but he had probably already noticed. He knew her too well. “What do you mean?” she wanted to know, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“Tell the Starks our contract is broken and I will make them pay for it. They have until midnight to bend the knee and swear their fealty to me and stop the whole claiming the throne for themselves, _otherwise I’ll slaughter every last one of them before the sun has even risen_!”


	21. Dagger Moon

Melisandre found Jon and Robb in the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counters and surprisingly – drinking. What an inconvenient timing. She rushed into the room without thinking about it, all that was on her mind were Stannis’ words. It was an hour before midnight.

The two brothers looked surprised when she stopped in front of them, eyes hectically traveling from one to the other. “We have a problem”, was all she was able to get out.

Jon frowned at the words, always the worry in his eyes. He exchanged a quick look with Robb. “What’s wrong?” he wanted to know. “Where have you been, anyway?”   
  
Oh, there was some explaining to do, perhaps. But that was for later. She needed a second to calm her thoughts. “Stannis thinks you broke the contract and declared yourself king.” She glanced over to Robb. “You have until midnight to bend the knee or he’s going to come here and-” she broke off. “kill every Stark he can find.” That probably included herself as well.

Robb’s jaw dropped at the words, his eyes full of shock. Searching for help, he looked over to Jon.

But he was occupied with something else entirely. “What were you doing at Stannis’?”

Melisandre withstood the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he was going to ask that. “Can we discuss that later?” she muttered, looking at Jon with pleading eyes.

“No”, Jon answered instantly.

“Yes!” Robb interrupted him. “Your marriage crisis doesn’t interest me half as much as the fact that we are all going to be slaughtered tonight! We need to get weapons and defenses!”

Melisandre shook her head. “You need to go to Stannis and bend the knee! You don’t want the throne, do you?” _Please say no,_ she was hoping internally.

Robb’s face hardened. “Wolves don’t bend the knee to anyone. We will not kneel in front of any Vampire!”

She looked to Jon for help, but he had the same stern facial expression as his brother.

What were they thinking? “You don’t know Stannis”, she tried again. “You can not win against him!”

“Well, we all know how well you know him...” Jon muttered behind her, arms crossed in front of his chest.

She turned around to face him. “Can we _please_ discuss this later?” Why did he have to talk about this now? They were all going to die in less than an hour. “You have to bend the knee, please.”

But of course, they were not listening, stubborn as they were. They were wolves, after all. And so Melisandre watched them getting themselves weapons and prepare a sort of defense strategy, even though it probably would not be any good.

She leaned in the doorway to the hallway, watching Jon loading a small handgun, and wondered if this was her fault. Had she gotten them into danger? Slowly, she walked over to them, getting herself one of the bigger guns.

Robb looked at her in surprise. “You’re going to stay?”

Melisandre frowned. “Where would I go?” The weapon was heavy in her hand. Just to be sure, she reached for a knife as well.

“I didn’t think you were so eager to die here with us”, Robb replied, closing the safe with the weapons. “After all, you aren’t a-” he stopped for a moment. “wolf”, he then added.

 _Stark,_ he had meant to say. She looked over to Jon for a second. “I’m with you.”   
Robb nodded. “Okay.” He turned to his brother. “We need to get Catelyn and Jeyne out of the house!”

Jon shook his head. “Where are they supposed to go? It’s too late now. Tell them to stay upstairs and hide, but give them weapons just in case.” He looked over to Melisandre for a moment, but stayed quiet.

She could see the worry in Robb’s eyes. He needed a few seconds until he finally nodded, packing a few guns and then making his way to the staircase.

He left Jon and Melisandre in uncomfortable silence, neither of them wanting to say anything.

Finally, Jon broke it. “You should leave”, was all he said.

The words were not supposed to hurt her as much as they did. “I’m not leaving you alone”, she replied, wondering what had happened to his promise from earlier today. “I’m with you, just as I said.”

There was another moment of silence. Jon clenched his jaw. “I’m sure Stannis would not hurt _you_.”

She shook her head. “If you think Stannis cares about me, you’re very wrong. He doesn’t care if I am alive or dead.”

Their eyes met for a brief second. “But still you visited him today. Without telling me.” He actually sounded really hurt.

Melisandre sighed. “I just wanted to know something about my past. Why I lost my memories. I wasn’t there to-” she interrupted herself. “That was the only reason.”

He looked at her for a moment, before turning away. “Okay.”

 _Wow, what a great reaction._ She was almost angry. “You know, this is not the perfect moment for jealousy!” she hissed, causing him to face her again.

“No? When will be the perfect moment for it?” he snapped back, jaw even more tensed now.

She only shook her head. “Not now”, was all she could say.

“You just told us we couldn’t win anyway. So now is about my last chance”, he replied coldly.

The distance in his voice made her sad. She looked down for a second, trying to get herself back together. Then she met his eyes again. “Can’t you just kiss me and tell me that I was wrong?” She felt weak for saying it, and insanely helpless, but she just needed him to be _there_ now. At least for a minute. He could be angry tomorrow. If there was a tomorrow.

Surprisingly, Jon’s face changed at the words. The anger disappeared from his face, instead he looked almost… sorry. There was regret in his eyes. For another moment he hesitated, but then he just made a step towards her and joined their lips.

She felt the warmth of his body, listened to the sound of his heartbeat, and for as long as the kiss lasted, she felt like home.

Jon withdrew, eventually, his hands still in her hair. His forehead was leaned against hers. “It’s going to be alright.” He sounded a lot more convinced than she had expected.

Somehow, this made her even more sad. She felt like crying. But of course there was not time for that. The clock showed quarter to midnight.

“Thank you”, she whispered as he let go of her, taking a few steps back and trying to calm her thoughts. She got this. She was good at fighting. But in that moment, it occurred to her that she was not actually worried about herself. That was a new feeling, entirely. Biting her lip, she looked over to Jon. “Please be careful, okay?”

He nodded, frowning a little. “I will.” There was a short pause. “Are you worried about me?”

 _Of course she was worried about him_. She only nodded, checking if her gun was properly loaded one last time. The metal felt almost as cool as her skin. Why did that surprise him so much? “I’m going to go to the back of the house and check if there’s anyone”, she informed him, trying to avoid looking at him.

To her surprise, he held her back by reaching for her hand. Softly, he turned her around so she had to look at him. Their bodies were close enough to touch. “No risks, okay?”

“I never take risks!” She used the sarcasm to hide how much the words had actually touched her, not wanting him to see it. “I’m always very careful, you know me!” she added, biting her lip so she wouldn’t smile.

He rolled his eyes at her. “I know you, that’s why I’m saying it.” Slowly, he let go of her hand. “It’s almost midnight”, he noticed.

Their eyes met for another moment, neither of them wanting to let go. Finally, Melisandre turned away. She left the hallway without another word, trying to ignore the pounding fear inside of her. If Stannis got his hands on Jon, he was going to kill him. She knew he would. Just because he knew it would hurt her. She turned the gun in her hands. _She wouldn’t let him come that far._

The back of the mansion was entirely silent, not even a clock was ticking. She had never been in this part of the house, since it was mostly not in use. Carefully, she peered through one of the windows, checking the darkness outside. The moon stood high in the sky, almost no cloud was in sight. It was a full moon.

Suddenly, there was a loud clang, and the window glass broke into a thousand pieces as a bullet pierced through it, just missing her by a millimeter. Within a heartbeat, she knelt on the floor, unlocking the safety of her gun.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then someone burst through the window above her, as quickly as only a vampire could manage. He landed in front of her, turning around just as she buried a bullet in his skull. It was one of Stannis’ men, she even recognized him. That one she had never liked.

She waited another minute in the same position, but nothing was happening. In the rest of the house, however, shots were fired and bodies were dropping, the sounds filling the silence from before.

Carefully, she got up and left the room silently, listening if someone was near her. She couldn’t hear anything, but that did not mean anything, since the other vampires could move just as silently as she herself. Fortunately, there were still four heartbeats to be heard, meaning all of the Starks were still alive.

She walked around another corner, immediately freezing since another one of Stannis’ man was standing at the end of the hallway, back turned to her. Davos Seaworth, as the observed. She had never liked him either, considering he hated her with a passion. Slowly, she raised the gun to the height of his head, finger already on the trigger.

Just in that moment, someone grabbed her from behind, pushing the gun out of her hands. He was pressing her against the wall, but she was faster and got free, reaching for her knife and managing to hit him just in the right spot at his throat. His body collapsed on the floor, as she turned around to face Davos. Blood was sticking to her dress, but she could not care less in that moment. “Hey”, she greeted Davos, playing with the knife in her right hand. One toss and he would be dead. _Oh, how that would hurt Stannis._

Davos was eyeing her, a gun in his own hands. He was not pointing it at her, though. “So we meet again”, he stated, looking down at her hands. “A blade is not as fast as a bullet.”

“Should be try?” she replied, almost eager to throw right now. But she restrained herself. There was a reason he was still talking.

He looked almost unhappy now. “Oh how I wish I could end your madness right now...” He almost seemed to be talking to himself. “But the King wants you alive.” And with those words, he turned around and disappeared around the next corner, before she could bury her knife in his back.

Melisandre was frozen for a moment, the surprise was too huge. What had he just said? Stannis wanted her alive? She shook her head, making her way to follow Davos. She needed to find Stannis.

She met no more of Stannis men, which was perhaps good, but it also made her worried. How many had he even brought with him? He could have sent a hundred. She was hoping it were only twenty. Perhaps he had underestimated the Starks. But that was wishful thinking, at best.

She reached the main hallway of the mansion, where the floor was littered with dead vampires wearing the golden Baratheon stag. She heard three beating hearts on the first floor, but one was pounding on the ground floor as well. Jon, most likely. Careful not to make any sound, she followed it, through the living room and into the southern part of the house. She had never been here either, everything looked strange and foreign to her.

Suddenly, she heard someone talking. The heartbeat was really close now. But the voice did not belong to Jon.

“I am actually very sorry that this marriage has to end so soon”, it was Stannis who was talking. “But it was bound to end this way. Wolves can never win against Vampires!”

She was ready to jump at his throat right now, but she restrained herself. He was actually a much better fighter than her and she was not too eager to die tonight. So she stayed hidden. And listened.

“Then you don’t know us very well.” It was Jon’s voice now, stubborn as ever.

It was almost breaking her heart. She had to do something, but she had no idea what. The fighting in the rest of the house still continued, she could hear the noise.

Stannis was taking the word, again. “I know enough about you, believe me.” A short silence followed. “You did not really think you could ever be enough for her, did you? A boy like you?”

It was very clear who he was talking about and she did not like at all were this was going. Stannis had no right to speak about her with Jon. Especially things which were not true.

“You will never be able to make her happy. A secret part of her will always want… _more_ “, Stannis continued. “So maybe it is better if I spare you the heartbreak and just end this right here.”

She heard the sound of a sword being drawn, Stannis was always old fashioned when it came to weapons, and that was the signal to make her jump. Within a second, she was inside the room and before either of them could react, she was standing in between the two of them. Honestly, she was not too sure what she had thought when she literally stepped in front of a sword, but that did not matter. What mattered was Jon.

Stannis’ eyes were full with surprise as he realized what had just happened. “Melisandre”, he muttered, teeth pressed together. “Go out of the way.” He was almost sounding as if he was making fun of her.

Persistently, she shook her head. “If you want to kill him, you need to kill me first.”

Behind her, Jon was reaching for her hand. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Trying to save your life, now please be quiet”, she replied, never taking her eyes of Stannis. He was obviously thinking she was joking. “What are you waiting for?” She decided to provoke him a little, to see how far she could go. Stupid, perhaps, but Davos’ line was still in her head. _He wanted her alive_.

Stannis had the sword still raised, but he was not moving. He only stared at her. “One last warning, Melisandre. Step out of the way and I won’t need to hurt you.”

 _Oh you try that._ She didn’t move. Jon behind her shifted uncomfortably, she could feel it. She was hoping he was not going to do anything stupid. She got this handled. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, as Stannis still did not react.

He froze for another moment, never moving his face. It was a silent battle, fought within the mind. Then he put the sword down. His eyes were sparkling with fury.

Melisandre did not even manage to feel relief, only surprise. What was Stannis doing? But of course she could not let him see her surprise. Instead, she went for teasing. “You’re afraid? Killing two instead of one is too much for you?”

Stannis’ eyes seemed as if he was just about to strangle her. But he never did. Instead, he shot her one last, angry look and then turned around to leave. Without a word, without anything else, he just left.

She turned around to Jon, surprise still all over her face. What had just happened? Why had this been so easy?

His eyes found hers, guilt all over them. “You should not have done that”, he said quietly.

“You would rather be dead right now?” she replied, not knowing but else to say.

He looked at her in silence for a few seconds. His heart was beating very fast. “Better me than you”, he eventually said.

She knew that he meant it. Softly, she shook her head. “No.”

More seconds passed in silence, the two of them just looking at each other. There was no need to say anything.

Finally, Jon reached for her and met her lips with his, taking her face into his hands. Their bodies seemed to melt together, tongues flicking into each others mouths.

The moment seemed to last an eternity, and for these few seconds, everything was right.


	22. Aftershock

It was utterly quiet in the house. The fighting had stopped, leaving only an uncomfortable silence. It was as if the mansion had died with its enemies, leaving no more than an empty void.

Jon and Melisandre walked back to the main part of the house in complete silence, only the echo of their steps to be heard. She could still feel a certain tension radiating from his body, some things, he had left unsaid. She was afraid to ask what it was.

They reached the main hallway at last, which was still the way she had found it earlier. No sound was to be heard. Only the soft beating of Jons heart and his breaths which moved the air around him.

“Where is everyone?” he asked into the quiet, cutting the silence into two.

Three hearts were beating on the first floor. One of them, a little to irregular though. “Upstairs”, Melisandre replied, already on the first step. Worry had risen in her. Something was not right.

Jon seemed to sense that, since he asked no more questions but simply followed her.

They rushed over the hallway over to the first door, which was Catelyn’s room as far as Melisandre was concerned, and slowly opened the door, taking a look inside.

The first thing she recognized was the smell of blood heavy in the air, almost clouding the entire room. The carpet was soaked with the scarlet liquid, gleaming in the dim candle light that lightened the room. For a second, the picture was overwhelming and she was not sure if she could restrain herself from directly jumping at someone. But she controlled herself, trying to block the image of the blood from her mind.

Instead, she knelt down next to Robb on the carpet, who was holding a half unconscious Jeyne in his arms. Blood had colored her white blouse in a light pink and stained her softly tanned skin in brutal red. Catelyn Stark was watching the scene play out with widened eyes, face as pale as paper. Shook stood in her eyes.

“What happened?” Jon finally broke the trance which seemed to befell everyone, obviously the only one still able to function properly. “Where is she injured?” he went on. His voice was calm and steady.

Melisandre swallowed heavily, trying to keep her mind back on track. She felt utterly empty. The whole situation was too much.

Catelyn was the one who took the word. “A bullet hit her. There was nothing I could do, I tried, but-” she broke off. “It’s too late for her.”

Robb did not seem to hear her words, only ever staring at Jeyne’s face. He did not even seem to breathe anymore.

“We need to let her go”, his mother added, now directed at him. “Robb. Let her go.”   
He did not hear her. Or if he did, there was no reaction.

Melisandre looked down at the girl’s face, saw the tears still staining her cheeks. She must have been so afraid. Jeyne, who had always been all smiled and laughter, ever so kind and friendly. Suddenly, a thought came to her mind. “Do you want me to turn her?” It were the first words she had spoken since her arrival. Her throat felt dry, the words wrong in her mouth. But it was the only way.

This time, Robb looked up. His eyes were filled with tears. “What?” he asked quietly.

“I can turn her, as long as her heart is still beating.” Jeyne would probably not like being a vampire, but she was alive, at least.

Catelyn Stark reached for her son’s hand. “Robb, no. Let her go.”

Jon interrupted her. “Or turn her yourself. Make her a wolf.”

Melisandre looked up in surprise. “Is that possible?” She had always thought the gene could only be passed from parents to children.

“It is”, Jon nodded.

Robb looked from his brother to Catelyn back down to Jeyne. He seemed hopelessly lost. But he nodded, slowly.

Jeyne’s heartbeat was weakening, the sound now almost not audible anymore. They did not have much more time. “Robb, you need to decide _now_.” She did not want to rush, but it really was a life or death situation they were facing.

He took a deep breath, slowly nodding. “I’ll do it.”   
There was a short silence following the words, all of them wondering whether this had been the best or worst decision one could have made. The guilt was heavy on their shoulders. It was their fault now. It would be their fault if Jeyne woke up utterly unhappy with what she had become. But there was no way to ask her now. One could only hope.

Carefully, Robb took her wrist to his lips, first pressing a soft kiss to her skin, then softly burying his teeth in it.

Melisandre gave her best too look away, avoiding to see the blood run down her arm. She could feel it, still. Almost hear it make its way over the skin. Two drops fell onto the carpet. Robb let go of her.

Out of a sudden, her heartbeat quickened. The bite showed its effects. “It’s working”, Melisandre said quietly. All she wanted was leave. Far away from here. She felt as if she was being suffocated.

Quickly, she stood up from the floor, making her way to the door. She felt Jon’s eyes following her, as he got up as well. _Please don’t say anything._

“Where are you going?” he asked, quietly and almost concerned.

It made her feel oddly sad. “I have to get out of here.”

He looked down at the blood on the carpet, then back at here. “Okay.” His glance never left her. Quietly, he opened the door for her. “But I’ll come with you.”

She had expected this, not looked forward to it, though. The last thing she needed now was another discussion about her and Stannis. Without another word, she left the room, finally leaving the smell of blood behind them. She felt the strong urge to get outside. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

Jon looked at her as if she had just lost her mind. “What? You want to go for a walk _now_?” He shook his head. “I get the feeling you have a strong wish for death tonight!”

Honestly, she was not in the mood for joking. “I’ll be back before dawn”, was all she felt like saying. She was so tired, but since sleep was no option anymore, she would go for some blood instead. Sleeping had never been her thing, anyway. As far as she remembered.

He only looked at her for a few seconds. “There are some things we need to discuss. Tomorrow.”

 _Of course there were._ “I know”, Melisandre replied, already turning to the stairs. “Take care of Robb and Jeyne. She’ll be scared when she wakes up.”

For a moment, she was not able to continue talking. It was as if an image had just flashed in front of her eyes. An image of a girl waking up in fear, to a strange room and a foreign face. The whole scene felt utterly familiar. Almost as if she had lived it herself. And just out of an intuition, she added _“I was”,_ before making her way down the stairs and out of the house.

Because she had once been a frightened little girl, waking up to her first day as a Vampire

 

-

 

His king had his back turned to him as Davos entered the library, quietly closing the door behind him. “Sire”, he greeted.

Stannis never reacted. He just stood there, grim and stern and unforgiving, just as he always was and always had been. Apart from when it came to a certain girl.

“Sire”, Davos repeated. “The men are discontent with today’s night.” In reality, discontent was probably an understatement. In fact, they were furious. And Davos could not even blame them. If they had wanted, they could have beaten the Starks tonight. Instead, Stannis chose to leave in the midst of battle and left the wolves victorious and all of them alive. _Including Melisandre._ Oh, how Davos would have enjoyed to put a bullet in her skull and end all of this. But the king’s order was his command, and Stannis had said she would live. Why was a mystery to Davos.

Stannis finally granted him an answer. “Discontent you say? Well, they should better be glad they are still alive. We underestimated the Starks greatly.”

 _Did we?_ That was not was Davos believed. They could have won. “Forgive me, sire, but good men are dead. They died for you tonight. You can not blame the rest for being unsatisfied with how the battle turned out.”

“It was not a battle”, Stannis objected. “Battles are fought at war. We are not at war with the Starks.” He leaned down onto the table, grinding his teeth. “Robb Stark is no more than a pretender, to be dealt with later. Cersei Lannister is the real enemy. Sitting in _my_ castle, on _my_ throne!”

Davos did not quite agree with that, but that was a matter to be discussed in the next council meeting and not why he had come today. “Another thing, sire”, he began, waiting for Stannis’ attention.

“Hurry, Davos, I do not want to stand here till dawn”, his king growled, impatient as ever. “If you have something to say, just spit it out!”

In fact, he was not entirely sure how to begin. It was a difficult topic, especially talking with Stannis. Normally, Davos was always honest and his council was always valued. His king listened to his opinion. He was hand of the king for a reason. “Tonight I stood in a hallway face to face with Melisandre.” He made a short pause. “I could have killed her right there. But you ordered she should be spared.”

Stannis was clenching his jaw. “If you have something to say, just say it, don’t talk around it like a common idiot!”

“If we would have gotten rid of her right there, we would have won and the Stark threat would be dealt with.” The words came out of his mouth without further thinking. Long had he watched Stannis and Melisandre, her manipulation of him. Long had he stayed quiet, but now he had enough. They would not lose this war because of her.

The king looked at Davos with stern eyes, expression frozen as ice. “So, you are saying I am a bad commander for retreating when victory was near?”

“No”, Davos disagreed. “I am saying you can not let your _affection_ for that girl get in the way of your way to the throne.”

Stannis’ eyes grew a little darker. “I do not have any affection for her.”

“If that is the case, why is she still alive?” Usually, he did not wish people death. But Melisandre was different. There was too much at stake. Once more, a certain night surfaced at the back of his mind. A night a little more than two years ago, a night of darkness and secrets and betrayal which still haunted his thoughts until today.

The king stayed silent. His face was hard and unreadable, but Davos knew the answer all the same. He did have affection for her.

“She is dangerous”, he tried again. “She betrayed us, teamed up with the Starks… probably sold them your secrets! She needs to be dealt with”, he urged, hoping that Stannis would be listening.

But instead of understanding, there was fury in his eyes. “What will you have me do? I sent her away, just as you said, sold her to the Starks for an alliance! I did what you asked, but you are still not content!” The anger was pounding with every word. “How much more will you ask of me, Davos?”

There were a few seconds of silence. Finally, Davos took the word again. “Will you risk her regaining her memory?” The sin still weighted heavy on his shoulders, as the memories flashed before his eyes. It had been a new moon, back then. He remembered the darkness. But still, the night had not been enough to cover the blood stains in the car. Or the flashes of red hair, tangling over the backseat. He still knew what song had played on the radio.

“The witch ensured me that would not happen”, Stannis growled quietly. “And I told you I never wish to hear about that night again!” He turned away, walking over to the window. His footsteps echoed from the walls. “This is my last word to that matter!”

Normally, Davos would have taken his leave now. But there was one last argument he still had, a last desperate attempt to change Stannis’ mind. “You are aware that she is in love with the Stark boy you gave her to, are you?”

For a moment, the king did not react at all. Then, slowly, he turned around. His eyes were red ice. “Get out of this room, now.” He was speaking very quietly, but the fury was burning in his eyes.

Still, Davos knew the words had gotten to him. Otherwise he would have stayed calm. “Of course, sire”, he answered, turning away to open the door. He was already out in the hallway, as the king’s voice held him back.

“I want someone to watch Melisandre and the Stark boy, every move they make. Send Jate, maybe. He is always fond of a challenge.”

Davos nodded, feeling a slight bit of relief to have changed Stannis’ mind at least a little. Still, he was not quite eager to send Jate Blackberry on that mission. The man was an excellent fighter, but he had always been a ladies men and always been awfully fond of Melisandre. Davos had always had his suspicions about the two of them, but never any proof, therefore he had never informed Stannis of it. He would rather have send Jate’s brother Omer, a man entirely loyal to his king, but not with the same confident nature, resulting in King Stannis being mostly unaware of him. Perhaps he would just send the two of them together.

Davos stepped out into the cool night, the moon already on its way down the horizon. Dawn would come soon. For a moment, he looked up to the stars. Would he ever be free of regret? Would he ever be able to forget it, that night above all nights?

Perhaps, the memory would haunt him forever, like the shadow of a deed long forgotten.


	23. Lullaby

It was shortly before dawn when Melisandre returned, jumping onto the window sill softly and as silently as possible opening the window. She was partly hoping Jon might be asleep and did not want to risk waking him.

But as she climbed into the room, he was already standing next to the window, much to her misfortune, arms crossed in front of his chest and eyes deep with worry. He did seem relieved that she was back, though, she noticed that. The look in his eyes grew slightly lighter.

Carefully, she closed the window behind her, avoiding to look at him. “Aren’t you tired?” she asked, even though it sounded stupid, even in her own ears. She was just trying to break the tension.

“Do you think I could sleep before you returned?” he replied, making it sound almost like an accusation.

Melisandre bit her lip. “Has Jeyne woken up yet?” Maybe a change of topic would do. And she really wanted to know how she was doing.

Slowly, he nodded, not quite willing to change topic yet. “Just a few minutes ago. She’s fine, so far.”

Melisandre felt a lot more relieved than she would have thought. “Good.” Quickly, she turned away and walked a few steps through the room. She had not changed before she had left, therefore she was still wearing her top stained with blood. Perhaps she should get rid of that.

Jon, however, was not ready to let her slip away that quickly. “We need to talk about Stannis”, he reminded her.

Her back was still turned to him. “What’s there to talk about?” It was a serious question. _Why did Stannis concern the two of them?_

She heard him inhale sharply. “Quite a lot in my opinion? For example the fact that he was ready to kill me at the spot but as soon as you came he just left? Don’t you think we should talk about that?”

“What do you expect me to say?” she snapped, turning around to face him. “How should I know why Stannis did what he did, can I read his mind?” Her tone was perhaps a hint to aggressive, she noticed that herself.

Jon was silent for a moment. “Well, he does obviously feel some kind of affection towards you, doesn’t he?”

The thought of that actually made her laugh. “No, he doesn’t!” She saw the doubt in his face. _Why did that even matter? What did Stannis have to do with their relationship?_ “Even if he did, I would not care”, she added. It was the truth.

Only Jon did not seem to believe her. “You once said you loved him”, he simply said.

The words were not supposed to hurt, but they did. For a few seconds, she was not able to say anything. _Was he really using that against her right now?_ “Well, I also said I loved you, in case you forgot”, she finally answered. She hated herself for the fact that her voice gave away how hurt she was. “I jumped in front of a sword for you today and instead of thanking me, you only… _accuse_ me of things!” Her anger covered up the pain, fortunately.

His eyes grew even sadder. “You should not have done that in the first place. You could have been dead!”

“So?” she replied, getting more and more tired of the whole situation. She felt as if they were just circling around a problem but never getting closer to the root of it. “It would have been better if you were dead?”

He clenched his jaw. “Yes.”

“Fine, next time I’ll just stand by and watch you die.” The words sounded bitter on her tongue. “You really think I could do that?”

He did not seem to have an answer to that, since he did not reply. For almost a minute, there was only silence. “You went to Stannis without talking to me.”

Melisandre felt as if she was going to explode any moment. Why did he start with that again? “I told you why I went there!” She was so tired of explaining herself.

Still, Jon was not letting go. “It’s not about that. It’s about you always making decisions without me! Why did you not just tell me you were going to go there?”

“Why do I have to tell you everywhere I go? Can’t I just do what I want?” she snapped back. What was he trying to do, chain her to the wall so she could never leave again?

It was driving her crazy that he seemed to be so calm, so reserved still. It only intensified her own anger. _Did he care about her so little that he did not even get angry at her?_

“I am not trying to control you!” he objected, now the first hint of anger in his gray eyes. “I just want to know why you don’t trust me enough to share your decisions with me!” There was a short pause. “You seem to share quite a lot with Stannis!”

There it was, the rage. The jealousy was all over his face, intensifying with every word. The thought of Stannis seemed to have made it spark. Still, the argument was unfair. And completely not true. “I betrayed Stannis for you!” she hissed back. “What more do you want?”

A few seconds passed, in which they just looked at each other. The tension in the air was almost visible, the room seemed to vibrate. During the whole fight, Melisandre had given her best not to look into his eyes for too long, in fear of getting lost in them. But now, there was no way to avoid it anymore.

Abruptly, she turned away. There were so many things she wanted to throw at him, but she restrained herself. This was leading nowhere.

Jon, however, seemed to see that differently. “Can you not even look at me anymore?” he hissed, approaching her with fast steps. He was searching for a reason to continue.

“Can I not just look where I want?” she replied, feeling the anger rising again. He was driving her crazy. She turned around again, almost bumping into him. He was so close, suddenly.

For a second or two, she was captured by his eyes. The words disappeared from her lips. The anger, however, was still pounding inside of her.

She was more surprised than anything when he leaned down and kissed her, as hard and passionate as he had never done before. His tongue slipped into her mouth, almost battling with hers.

From there, everything happened too fast for her to even think about it or to consider if it was really a wise choice.

Jon’s hands ripped off her top, getting her out of her jeans, while she stripped him of his clothes. Roughly, he pushed her against the wall, back against it, as he played with the clip of her bra for a few seconds, before letting it fall to the ground. Her fingers curled into his hair, holding herself upright as he ripped the panty of her lower body with such force that she almost lost her balance. Slowly, his lips traced the lines of her jaw and collar bone, teeth sucking and biting at the soft skin. The touch made a shiver run down her spine.

His fingers dug into her ass while he lifted her up, legs curled around his hips, pressing their bodies together. She could feel the heat of his skin on hers, his warm breath making her tremble. His lips caught hers again, teeth now playing with her bottom lip.

He entered her with such force that she had screamed if he had not covered her mouth with his, her nails digging into the skin of his back as she clutched his body closer, feeling the tension inside her rise as he thrust deeper inside of her. His fingers played with her nipples, twisting and teasing them until she cried out.

She almost felt like passing out as she came in his arms, feeling him come inside her just the same moment. He was breathing heavily now, leaning against her for a moment, lips still on her neck. If he had not held her so tight, she might have just collapsed, feeling her climax slowly phasing out.

Jon, however, was not done yet. His lips found hers once more, never leaving them, as he pulled her closer to his body and lifted her up from the wall, carrying her over to the bed.

Quickly, he pushed her onto the mattress, as he let himself sink down on her, tongue flicking into her mouth as his pelvis pushed down onto hers, making her tremble.

This time he entered her slower, hips rolling against hers in a steady rhythm. His mouth traveled down to her breasts, tongue and teeth playing with her nipple until she moaned. Her nails sunk into the fabric of the bed sheets, almost ripping them as her body tensed with each thrust.

He collapsed onto her as he came, lips joined one last time, tongues not wanting to let go of each other, before he withdrew from her body.

Melisandre closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to make up her mind. She listened to Jon’s heavy breathing and to the fast pounding of his heart. In that moment, she was not able to do anything else. It was both oddly calming.

It took the two of them a few minutes to calm down, getting themselves back together.

Jon had vanished to his side of the bed, taking the familiar warmth of his body with him.

Melisandre covered herself in the sheets, ignoring the spots where her nails had dug holes into the thin fabric. The warmth of it made her feel as if Jon was still there, as if it was not just her own, cold body.

Being honest, she had no idea what had just happened. The anger inside her had disappeared, leaving only a certain discontent over how the events had played out.

She turned her head around to look at Jon, only to discover that his eyes were set on her already.

He didn’t look angry anymore either, only brooding, as if a deep thought had occupied his mind. Almost as if he was not noticing, he stroke a red curl behind her ear. His finger softly touched her face, making her skin tremble a little.

For a few minutes, neither of them had anything to say. The fight was still not solved, the problem still there, but they simply did not have the energy to take it any further.

Carefully, Melisandre rolled onto her stomach, shifting closer to him. She rested her head on her hands, facing him. “This is not the best way to solve a problem, you know.”

He nodded. “I know.”

Another long silence followed, until she moved back onto her side, curling herself up in the sheets.

She had expected him to go to sleep now, but instead he reached for her hand and pulled her back, closer to him. “Maybe we just need to get the hang of how this works between us”, he muttered, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. “We’ll figure it out.” It sounded like a promise.

 

-

 

The basements beneath Stannis’ mansion where cold and wet, more crypts than anything else. They consisted of seemingly endless tunnels with doors and rooms behind each corner, but never leading anywhere. A few decades back, the Targaryen family who had once lived in the mansion had held dragons in this basement. During those times, the house and all that belonged to it had been known as Dragonstone.

Stannis had dropped the name, though, and all rumors and stories about dragons with it. Still, the tunnels always gave Davos a weird feeling, and he did not at all like being down there.

But today it was necessary, since his king had sent him to search for Jate and Omer in order to give them their orders. During the day, the brother’s could often be found down in the basement, since it housed the blood bank of the mansion.

As expected, that was where he found the two of them, Jate sitting on the ground with his back against the wall and Omer standing in the room’s center.

The brothers looked up as he entered the room.

“Davos!” Jate greeted, lifting the blood bag in his right hand as a greeting. “Coming to join us for breakfast?”

Omer simply smiled quietly, tilting his head a little. He was much different than his brother. In fact, they could not be less alike.

“Actually, I come with words from our King.” Davos looked over to Jate, who was still very busy with himself. As always. “He has an order for the both of you.”

Jate sighed at the words. “Yes, yes, the king always giving orders. But what about himself? Did he follow his own orders when he left our enemies alive and left the deaths of our own men unpaid?” With a swift move, he jumped to his feet. “I want vengeance, Davos! Good men are dead, slaughtered by those savages!”

It was dangerous word he was speaking, although he was well liked by Stannis. “The king had his reasons”, was all he said. _But did those reasons justify the happenings?_ “But perhaps you will soon be presented with an opportunity for revenge”, he added.

Suddenly, the men’s eyes were on him.

“You have my full attention”, Jate replied, stepping closer.

Davos nodded. “The king orders you to keep track of Melisandre’s and her husband’s movements. Wherever they go, you go too!”

Jate’s eyes lightened up at the mention of Melisandre’s name. “And what is our reward? Are we both allowed to keep one of them? Because I know who I would like to keep!” He laughed a little. “Besides, I would much rather do this on my own. Does the king trust so little in my abilities that I am damned to take my brother with me as a caretaker?”

Omer rolled his eyes at the words. “I am certain that his grace had his reasons!”

Davos was more and more convinced that sending the Blackberry’s on this mission was a stupid idea. Jate would use the first opportunity to have to play out his thoughts of vengeance and his brother would be of little help to stop him. In addition, Jate’s obvious affection for Melisandre did not make things better.

Therefore, Davos felt the need to make the rules a little more clear. “You’re task is only to watch, never to interfere. They can’t ever notice you, is that understood?”

“Of course”, Omer responded.

His brother was a little slower in that matter. “So we are sitting outside in some bush preying on Melisandre and her new man? Damn, I could think of some better ways to spend my time!”

Davos was easy to believe that. Still, the order came from Stannis. “Your king commanded it”, he reminded him.

“Damn Stannis and his commands”, Jate grumbled, tossing the empty blood bag onto the floor. “I heard Cersei Lannister never lets her men sit around playing cards. They are always out in the field doing real fighting!”

He had to be careful with the words now, what he spoke was treason, Davos was just as aware as Omer. “You should not speak those matters to the king, unless you’re planning a soon death.”

Jate laughed, amusement sparkling in his red eyes. “Stannis could never kill me! He’s a grumpy old man and not half as good with the sword as I am!”

“Melisandre always beat you”, Omer interrupted, grinning a little.

His brother shot him an angry look. “I let her win! That’s how you do it with a lady!”

Omer raised his eyebrows. “If you say so.”

Davos was ready to take his leave, wanting to inform Stannis that he had carried out his wishes. “I trust that you will follow the king’s orders just as he expects it from you”, he ended the brother’s bickering. He was not in the mood to listen to Jate’s arrogance any longer. “You can begin the upcoming night.” With those words, he left the two behind him, making his way back up to the ground floor.

The mission still left a deep worry at the back of his mind, almost as if he could already now sense, that something would go terribly wrong. He had to keep an eye on Jate Blackberry. Or two, perhaps.


	24. The Fifth Deadly Sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume  
> there is fire in her eyes  
> and ice in her veins  
> but you love her anyway  
> for she is a star   
> burning with the light of a thousand suns   
> (and your world would be dark without her)

It was almost noon when Jon made his way downstairs, planning to check on his brother and Jeyne. The house was unusually quiet, only the sound of the coffee machine could be heard from the kitchen.

As Jon entered, he spotted Robb, back against one of the counters and eyes on the black coffee running through the filter and dripping into the can below. It seemed to fascinate him a lot.

“Hey”, Jon greeted his brother, interrupting his trance.

As Robb noticed him, his face instantly lighted up. “Ah, brother.” He grinned knowingly. “Did you have fun last night?”

Jon felt himself blushing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”, he muttered, walking over to the coffee machine and almost ripping the can out of the holder.

His brother only laughed. “Oh, come on! I’m your brother, you can tell me!”

Jon simply ignored him, filling himself a cup of coffee and nipping at it. Naturally, he burned his lips. _What an excellent day._

“You really won’t give me any details? Nothing?” Robb’s eyes sparkled with amusement, as he reached for the can and made another two cups of coffee.

Jon took a big sip of coffee. It tasted bitter on his tongue. “Do you notice I never ask you about your sex life?”

Robb only shrugged. “You could. But you’re too uptight for that!” He was still grinning. “Maybe I’ll ask Melisandre, I’m sure she would like to spill some tea!”

“Don’t you dare”, Jon muttered, shooting his brother a warning look. It was time for a change of topic, in his opinion. “How is Jeyne feeling?” he wanted to know. An issue much more important than his personal life.

His brother sighed, before answering. “She’s well. Asleep, at the moment. But she’s feeling fine.”

Jon nodded in relief. “Good.” He looked over to Robb. “It was the right decision.” Last night, he had wondered if he had done the same. Take all measures to save Melisandre. He hadn’t come to a decision. Hopefully, he would never have to face it.

Robb turned the cup in his hands. “I suppose it was”, he replied. “Since I couldn’t save father, I could at least save Jeyne.” For a moment, his eyes grew sad. But it lasted barely a few seconds, before he looked up again. “I better get upstairs.” He left his cup on the counter, only grabbing the other one.

He was already on the door, when he stopped another time, leaning back to Jon. “Congrats on the sex, brother!” With those words he left the kitchen, hurrying to get upstairs before his brother had the chance to reply.

Jon sighed quietly, taking a last sip of coffee and storing the two empty cups in the dishwasher. _Why did Robb always have to know everything?_

Still shaking his head, he left the kitchen as well, just when Robb came down the stairs again. “Oh, more comments about my marriage?”

Robb rolled his eyes. “No, actually some serious business. I just remembered that Lord Umber told me there had been some problems in the area at the border between his and Stannis’ land, so he wanted me to check that out. But I don’t want Jeyne to be alone at the moment, so I meant to ask you if you could maybe just drive there tonight and check it out, if there’s anything unusual?”

Jon nodded. “Sure.”

Robb’s familiar grin returned. “And take Melisandre. I’d feel safer if she’s there to protect you!”

“Very funny”, Jon muttered, walking past his brother upstairs.

He still heard Robb’s laugh behind his back.

 

-

 

“Do you think we need guns?” Jon asked as Melisandre got inside his car, checking her hair in the front mirror.

She turned around to him. “I don’t need one, but I don’t know about you!” She smiled a teasing smile as he rolled his eyes at her, simply getting inside the car as well and closing his door.

“No guns, then”, he concluded, starting the engine and rolling out of the garage.

Melisandre leaned back in her seat, eyes searching the darkness outside the window. “What exactly are we searching for?”

Jon drove onto the street, taking the road to the Greatjon’s part of town. “Some of Lord Umber’s men have been attacked near the border to Stannis’ land and he asked Robb to take care of it.”

She frowned at the words. “Can he not take care of it himself?” _Wolves, always the cowards._

He smiled a little. “He could, but Robb is king now and a king needs to listen to everyone of his subjects and protect all of them.”

The answer surprised her. “You would be a good king”, she replied, completely serious.

His eyes met hers for a second. “No, I wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t want to be one, either.” He looked back onto the street, increasing the speed slightly.

She could feel the vibrations of the car as they got into more rural territory in the outer parts of the town. Suddenly, something moved behind them. Only for a second, then it was gone. Frowning, Melisandre turned around. A car was following them, lights turned off and at much lower speed. “Turn off the lights”, she told Jon, eyes still fixed on the car. It was too dark to read the plate, even for her eyes.

“What?” he replied, looking into the front mirror. “There’s nothing!”

She shook her head. “Somebody is following us. Turn the lights off, drive faster and take the next road right or left.” Her eyes searched for his. “Trust me.”

Jon sighed, but nodded and the lights of the car died. The engine roared as he put his foot onto the accelerator, increasing the speed even more. “Why would anyone follow us?” he asked, turning the steering wheel around and driving them into one of the small roads which appeared to their right. The wheels almost slipped on the muddy ground, but somehow the car managed to stay on the road. “That was close”, Jon muttered, eyes on his mirror. “Are they still behind us?”

Melisandre turned around, watching the road for a few seconds. “I don’t think so. Drive a little further.” She opened her seat belt, kneeling onto her seat to have a better look.

Jon watched her skeptically. “What are you doing?”

“You really think I need a seat belt? I’m only wearing it so you won’t freak out”, she answered, still searching the darkness. But the car appeared to be gone. Slowly, she sat down properly again. “We should wait a few minutes somewhere, until we go back to the main road”, she proposed. After all, they had no guns. Not one of her best ideas, probably.

“Alright”, he agreed, slowing down the car and leading them away from the street and onto the meadow next to it. There, he turned the engine off.

Melisandre leaned back in her seat, watching him do the same and opening his seat belt. He looked worried. “What is it?” she wanted to know.

Jon sighed. “We’re on Stannis’ land here. If his men find us here...”

She rolled her eyes. “Why are you always so paranoid? Just relax a little.” Actually, those words sparked an idea in her mind. _Perhaps she should help him relax._ Without further thinking, she stood up from her seat as far as possible, climbing over the middle part of the car.

“What are you doing?” Jon wanted to know, as she let her body slip between his and the steering wheel, sitting down on his lap.

Sometimes he was really slow thinker. “What does it look like I’m doing?” She joined their lips, tongue traveling along the line of his bottom lip. Her fingers traced the lines of his jaw, down to his neck.

It only lasted a few seconds though, since he pulled away quite quickly. “We should really leave!”

Melisandre pouted. “It’s just about to get interesting!” Her hands traveled down his body, tracing the lines of his muscles under his shirt, nails softly digging into his skin. She could feel him shifting underneath her.

“It’s too dangerous to stay here any longer”, he insisted.

She only grinned. “Isn’t that the thrill of it?” she asked softly, fingers now almost having reached his pants.

Jon sighed. “Can you please get back to your seat?”

Their lips were very close, she could feel his breathing on her skin. “Make me”, she whispered, eyes meeting his.

In that moment, she had him. His head jerked forward, lips occupying hers. Hands on her waist, he pushed her backwards against the steering wheel. It was not the most comfortable position, but it would do.

His hands worked to lift her dress upwards, freeing her legs from the fabric. The touch made her shiver. Her teeth worked on his bottom lip, tongue playing with his.

Slowly, her fingers slipped down to his pants, opening the zipper and pushing her body down onto his. His hands were on her panty, pulling it to the site.

Her grip around his neck tensed as he entered her, his fingers digging into her ass as she began to roll her hips against his. She could hear him inhale sharply, now breathing heavily. Their lips never left each other, teeth sucking and biting at the other’s bottom lip.

She could feel the tension rise inside of her as they drove each other closer to the edge, his kisses now tracing the lines of her neck until she moaned. Her skin trembled under his lips, feeling the warmth of his body filling her as well.

Her fingers curled into his shirt as she came with him, almost ripping the fabric.

Jons lips found hers again, softer this time. It was calming, this kind of kiss. He traced the lines of her jaw, stroking through her hair. For a second, they let go of each other.

“Was that so bad?” Melisandre whispered against his lips, still leaned against his chest. His heart was beating under her fingertips.

He shook his head. “Not at all.” His lips touched hers just barely, more a brush than a real kiss. For a moment, they stayed in that position, neither of them wanting to let go. Her forehead was leaned against his, only softly touching.

Eventually, Melisandre got up, opening the door and climbing out of the car. She felt Jon’s eyes following her as she rearranged her dress, walking around the car once before coming back inside. “We should really get going”, she muttered as Jon started the engine. Suddenly, she didn’t know how to behave. How was she supposed to act now?

Jon turned around and drove them back to the main road, turning the lights back on to be able to see in the darkness. It was after midnight by now.

They took the way they had originally planned to take and this time, no one followed them. Melisandre made sure to look behind her a few times, checking the darkness behind them for movement. But it was only the two of them.

Finally, Jon broke the silence hanging between them. “This is the zone Lord Umber was talking about.” He slowed the car down. “Perhaps we should get out and check the surroundings!”

She frowned in his direction, as he pulled the car to the side of the road and turned it off. “What happened to ‘that’s too dangerous’?”

Jon shrugged. “I changed my mind.” Without waiting for a reaction from her side, he pushed his door open and left, disappearing into the darkness.

 _Wow._ Quickly, she followed him, as he left the car behind and walked towards a small wood that laid to their right side. The trees threw strange shadows onto the road, the wind made them almost dancing. The moon gleamed above their heads. In its light, Jon’s shadow seemed unusually large. _Almost like a king’s._ She was not sure why she thought that. It had just come to her mind. _The moon has kissed you._ And perhaps, it really had.

They walked further throughout the night, Melisandre not sure what they were even looking for. What were they supposed to find here?

Suddenly, a sound disturbed the silence of the night. In a reflex, she reached for Jon’s hand to hold him back. Somewhere near them, a car engine was turned off. A door opened, then closed. More seconds passed. Nothing. The sounds had just vanished.

Jon’s eyes laid on her, questions arising in his face.

“Don’t move”, Melisandre formed with her lips, letting go of his hands and walking a few steps forward, never making a sound. The whole forest seemed to have died, not even a single rasping of leaves to be heard. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Her eyes searched the trees around them, but there was nothing.

Then, suddenly, a crack. A person stepped out of the shadows, clothed in all black. The moonlight reflected on the metal of two guns, one pointed at Jon, one at herself. And as the person turned towards her, she knew exactly who they were facing.

Jate Blackberry was smiling when he saw her. “After all this time”, he greeted her, slowly walking towards her, never taking the guns down.

Jon looked to her in confusion. “Who is that?”

“No one”, she replied, eyes on Jate and the gun. What was he doing?

He seemed seriously offended by the words. “No one? Is that how you introduce an old friend?”

She looked over to Jon, who stared at the vampire as if he was going to murder him any second. _This was not going well._ “What are you doing here? Why did you follow us?” she wanted to know, only a few steps apart from Jate. She could try and get the gun. She had always been a better fighter than him.

He smiled. “Oh you know, just orders. But in fact, I’m also here to do a little justice!”

Melisandre frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Good men were killed at your house last night. Friends of mine. If it had been for me, we would have murdered all of you at the spot, but the King retreated like a coward, so here I am.” The smile grew a little bigger. “I am your very personal judgement.”

She was wondering when Jate had begun to think about Stannis in that way. _Back when she had still lived with him? When she had used him as a distraction when Stannis were too busy? Had that been the reason he had agreed?_ “So you came here to murder us”, she concluded.

His eyebrows arched up. “Melisandre, I am disappointed. You truly think I could do harm to this beautiful face?” He approached her, leaving barely more than a meter left between them.

She looked over to Jon. He seemed to explode any moment.

“I came here to murder _him_ ”, Jate now corrected her, half turned around to Jon. “He’s cute”, he commented. “I understand why you fancy him. Nothing permanent, though. Not your type.”

She only shrugged. “I wouldn’t say I have a type.” He was standing close enough for her to attack now, but there was still the risk of the second gun. There was the possibility of him firing at Jon before she had reached him. He was just as quick as she was.

“Well, doesn’t matter now”, Jate went on, attention still on Jon. “I guess you should say goodbye to him.”

Melisandre smiled at the words. “I don’t think so.” Within a second, she had reached him, pushing the gun out of his hands and kicking it away. She was hoping Jon would be smart enough to pick it up.

He fired a few shots at her with the second gun, but the bullets all missed by a few centimeters. Quickly, she jumped at him again, escaping his fist and elbow and instead jumping behind him, where she managed to hit him just in the right spot to make him fall to his knees. She grabbed the gun from his hands, actually proud of herself, and gave him another kick with her high heel.

He growled, trying to reach for his weapon, but Melisandre was faster. His body froze when she pressed the cold metal to the back of his head. “How about I kill you instead?” she asked, looking over to Jon who fortunately had gotten hold of the second gun.

Jate, however, seemed to enjoy it quite a lot. “You’re just as good at fighting as you are in bed”, he commented, making her hit him with the gun so hard he almost screamed. But then the laughter was back. “And you would never kill me!”

Her eyes traveled over to Jon. Actually, she had not wanted him to know that. Honestly, he did not look pleased.

“Say that again and I’ll do it”, he growled now, approaching the two of them.

Melisandre rolled her eyes at the words. _Always the big drama queen._ “Get up”, she told Jate, gun still pressed to his head. “Turn around!”

He faced her with a big grin. Obviously, he was making fun of her. She had very much liked to kill him on the spot, but she wanted Stannis to know of this. She wanted him to know he could not just send people after her. Thinking for a moment, she turned the gun in her hands. “I want you to go back to Stannis. Tell him what happened.” She smiled. “Tell him how I beat you!”

Jon was clenching his jaw. He did not seem to pleased with how things turned out.

“And if he ever sends _anyone_ after me or any Stark again, I swear to him I’m going to slaughter every last man who wears the Baratheon flag. Is that understood?”

Jate nodded. “Understood.”

Still, she felt like this was not enough. “Take this as a warning.”

Before Jate could even react, she fired a shot, hitting him in the lower abdomen. He growled in pain, arching forward, but she was certain it would not kill him. A little blood from Stannis and he would be fine.

“Remember my words”, she reminded him. “Remember them well.”

 


	25. Epiphany

Jon did not say anything on the way back to the car, only silently stared into the darkness as he almost ran through the woods, so fast he stumbled a few times.

Melisandre followed him, trying to ignore the tension in the air. It was very obvious that he was angry with her, only she was not quite sure why. A number of reasons probably played a role. But it was not before they reached the car that she dared to break the silence. “Are you going to say anything?”

He turned around. “What am I supposed to say?” Even in the darkness, there was anger in his eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe why you’re angry with me?” she replied, trying to keep her voice in control. She didn’t want to fight, not here. Not now.

Jon clenched his jaw. “He just tried to murder us!”

She shrugged. “And that’s my fault?”

“That’s not what I meant”, he muttered. He never said what he _did_ mean, though. “Why doesn’t that bother you?”

Actually, it did bother her. She was very tempted to go pay Stannis a visit right now. _What the hell was he thinking?_ “Of course that bothers me”, she replied. “I just don’t get angry with you even though it’s not your fault!” She had not meant to sound so accusing.

Jon looked down at the ground for a moment. “I’m not angry with you.” His voice was very quiet. “I’m just worried.”

He had an odd way of showing it for sure. Melisandre remained silent for a few seconds, not quite knowing what to say. “Don’t you think I was worried about you too?” she finally said. “When he pointed the gun at you. That’s not nice for me, either!”

Another moment of silence. Jon’s eyes were still on the ground. “Why didn’t you kill him?” he wanted to know.

“I wanted Stannis to know what happened.” _She wanted to warn h_ _im_ _._ Because her words had been the truth. She would come for him if he ever did something like this again. She wouldn’t care if she died in the attempt.

Jon was wringing his hands, almost nervously. “So it was not because you and him-” he broke off. It was obvious what he meant, no need to say it.

Melisandre frowned at the words. “No.” She didn’t think that would even be a question after what happened. Actually, she would have gladly sent Jate to his grave tonight. Stannis had always been font of him, almost as font as of Ser Davos that old idiot. _Oh how she would like to see him again, with a gun pressed to his head._ That would be a sweet revenge, considering the few times he had tried to kill her, even when she was still living in Stannis’ mansion.

“I was just wondering”, Jon replied, with a voice that was telling exactly why he had wondered. He was jealous, obviously, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

It actually made her smile a little, which he fortunately could not see in the dark. “It was a one time thing.” She was not going to go into detail, but she felt like he needed to know. “Nothing more.”

He nodded. “Okay.” For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. “Can you come here for a second?”

The request surprised her, but she approached him anyway.

His skin felt warm under her finger tips as her hands rested on his chest, while he softly pulled her closer. Lightly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She couldn’t help the smile. “I’m glad you are too.”

He let go of her, opening the door of the car so she could get inside. “We should get back home.”

 

-

 

Melisandre rolled onto her back, looking over to Jon who was asleep next to her. The sight made her smile a little. The clock next to the bed showed almost 4 am. She looked up at the ceiling, letting her eyes travel over the white paint. It was utterly silent in the house, only Jon’s soft breathing next to her was audible.

Suddenly, there was something outside the mansion. Footsteps growing closer. But no additional heartbeat. A vampire, then.

Carefully not to move the bed, she freed herself of the sheets and climbed out of the bed, walking over to the window. She moved the curtains away to have a better view, but no one seemed to be there. _Damn it._ As quietly as possible, she opened the window, jumping onto the sill and climbing out of the room. Swiftly, she let herself fall onto the ground, looking around her. The footsteps had vanished.

But out of a sudden, a voice was behind her. “I knew you’d hear me.”

She turned around, knowing exactly who she would face. “Jate”, she greeted. Actually, she had hoped to never have to see him again. Still, she frowned as she took a closer look at him. His nose and lips were bloody and he had a black eye, the bruise extending across half of his face. “What happened to you?” she wanted to know.

Jate laughed. “An evil redhead!”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t do that!”

“Nah, you only shot me”, he replied. “Stannis was not too pleased with how things turned out, so he decided to play football with my face!”

 _Controlling his temperament had never been his thing._ “I thought it was his idea to have you kill Jon?”

Jate ran a hand through his hair. “That was more of me improvising, actually. The king only commanded me to watch and observe.”

She frowned. That was interesting. “Well, you failed”, she commented.

“Guess I did”, Jate answered, looking anything but pleased.

There was a short silence.

“What do you want?” she finally asked. Honestly, she was afraid of the answer. It could not be anything good, considering the way Stannis had beaten him up. He must have been furious.

Jate almost looked sorry as he continued speaking. “I delivered your message. As you can imagine, Stannis was not pleased.”

She could imagine that very well indeed. Stannis had never liked to be challenged, even less so by Melisandre. He had always found her too confident, too sure of her abilities. And perhaps she was, in a way. Still, she had always felt that was something he liked about her. And in the end, he had listened to her advice quite often. _Or at least until the moment he had decided to sell her to the Starks for an alliance._ Davos Seaworth’s idea, she believed. It sounded a lot like his kind of scheme.

Jate continued, interrupting her thoughts. “He sent me here to deliver his answer.”

“Alright”, she replied, actually not too interested in hearing it. She had enough of Stannis’ talk. She had heard enough of it.

“He said I should remind you of the wolf kissed by fire, I don’t know what that means, and her secret?” Jate shrugged. “I’m just repeating what he said. He said you’d know who she is.”

 _Oh yes she did._ Ygritte’s fate still weighted heavy on her shoulders. She had laid awake many nights thinking how she could tell Jon, but had never come to a conclusion. He would hate her, she knew he would. It was beyond the point where he would forgive her for lying all this time. “What about her?” she now asked, voice just as hollow as she felt. What was Stannis trying to do?

“Stannis said you should tell your husband the truth.” Jate made a short pause. “Or he will.” Melisandre closed her eyes for a second. _She couldn’t._ Actually, this was all her fault. She should have known Stannis was going to use this against her at some point. This was what he always did. “Did he say anything else?” she wanted to know, hoping there was not anything else to come.

Gladly, Jate shook his head. “No.” He looked at her for a moment. “What did you keep from him?”

“That’s none of your business”, she replied, turning away slightly so he would not see her face. Panic was rising in her mind. How was she going to do this? _She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t._

Jate was still watching her. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen in love with him!”

“Can you shut up”, she muttered in his direction. “Or do you want another black eye?”

He laughed. “You really have terrible taste in men, you know. Apart from me, of course. I’m a great choice.”

She really was not in the mood to discuss that right now. There were more important things to think about. Still, she could not help but counter. “You were never my taste”, she replied, hearing him laugh as a reaction. “You were just the only one willing to risk your life for me! Because everyone knew what Stannis would have done if he had found out!”

“Believe me, I could take Stannis!” Jate answered confidently. He had always been too arrogant. “He’s not as good as everyone says.”

Perhaps he didn’t even know how wrong he was about that, but Melisandre was not in the mood to extend that discussion. “I need to go”, was all she said. “And you should too, it’s almost dawn.”

Jate nodded, already turned away, but holding on for another second. “Also, if your husband starts to get boring – you can always give me a call!”

“Shut up”, was all she replied, rolling her eyes at him one last time before jumping back onto the window sill, as he disappeared into the night. Not even Jate’s joking could make her feel better about what was to come. She would have to tell Jon today. _Today._

Fortunately he did not wake up when she crept back into the bed, curling herself up in the sheets. She watched his face for a moment, listening to the calm beat of his heart. Usually it always made her feel better, but today not even that seemed to work. _She loved him._ It had taken her too long to realize, but it was true. And she didn’t want to lose what they had.

 

-

 

It was after 8 when Jon finally stirred and seemed to wake up, Melisandre impatiently sitting at the edge of the bed, wringing her hands. She was feeling sick, the first time ever since she was a vampire.

She turned around as he rolled onto his back, watching while he opened his eyes. Slowly, he sat up. “Good morning.”

Melisandre managed a weak smile, before turning away quickly. How was she supposed to start?

Behind her, Jon climbed out of the bed, pressing a kiss to her hair from behind. “Is something wrong?” Another kiss to her neck.

She felt so terrible. Still, she did not manage to say anything. His lips seemed to have left a stain on her skin.

Jon walked over to his drawer, beginning to get dressed. His eyes were still on her. “What’s wrong?” he repeated his question, getting into his shirt and closing the drawer. “There is something.” As he didn’t receive an answer, he approached her again, kneeling down in front of her. “Just tell me.”

 _If only that were so easy._ She looked into the gray of his eyes, and almost teared up. He was so perfect. And he loved her. This was all she ever wanted, as far as she remembered. And still, she had managed to fuck it up. Why had she not told him back then? Maybe it would have been fine. Maybe they would have moved on. But now, there was no going back. There were only regrets. And only guilt.

Abruptly, she stood up, withdrawing from him. She escaped to the other end of the room. _She next time she saw Stannis she was going to rip him to pieces._ “There’s something I haven’t told you. Something I need to tell you.”

Jon’s face clouded at the words, eyes growing more suspicious. Still, he did not yet look angry. “What is it?” he wanted to know. There was a certain impatience in his voice.

Melisandre swallowed heavily. It felt as if her throat had suddenly dried out. She was just going to say it. All of it. No more secrets. “A few months ago I told you I went to Petyr Baelish. Because of Ygritte.”   
The mention of her name changed something in Jon’s eyes, suddenly seeming a lot darker. “Please tell me this has nothing to do with her.” He sounded almost pleading.

 _He still has feelings for her,_ she noticed and it made her heart hurt. “That day he told me she had been murdered in an alley shortly before I was turned by Stannis. And that no one knew who did it. And that she had been a redhead. Like _me_.”

Obviously, Jon did not draw the same conclusion as she did all those months ago in Littlefinger’s office. He only looked at her in confusion. “Is this another one of your jealousy attacks or…?”

She closed her eyes for a second. “No”, she muttered. She had wished he would understand himself. “There was no reason for her to be killed, no strategic value for anyone, least of all the Lannister’s.” He still did not seem to understand. “It was not Jaime Lannister who killed her. It was Stannis Baratheon.”

Jon’s jaw dropped. A few seconds passed in silence, in which he seemed to try to regain his voice. Disbelief was all over his features. “Why?” he managed to get out.

Melisandre ran a hand through her hair. “Because he needed someone inside your family, someone to secure an alliance. He got rid of Ygritte and gave me to you instead, hoping I would be just that for him.” She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice, but it was still shaking. _It was never supposed to be this way._

He did not say anything for a long time, just stared at the ground in front of him. Finally, his eyes met hers again. “How long have you known?”

It was a simple question, with not such a simple answer. “Stannis threatened to kill me if I told you-” she began, but he interrupted her.

“How long have you known?” His voice had grown louder, he was almost yelling at her. He had _never_ yelled at her before, not even during the last big fight they had had.

She could feel the tears in her eyes, but tried to blink them away. _He would not see her cry_. “Since the day I went to Littlefinger’s”, she managed to say. “I’m so sorry”, she whispered. “I never meant to-”

Again, he interrupted her. “So since the day you promised me you would always be honest with me? Not keep anymore secrets?” He was hardly able to look at her anymore. “Why are you telling me today? After all these months?”

She escaped his eyes, afraid she might begin to cry if she saw the look in them. “Stannis threatened to tell you himself if I didn’t do it because of what happened with Jate.”

He took a deep breath, the air slowly filling his lungs. His heartbeat was racing. “So if he had not forced you to do it, you had never told me?”

Quickly, she shook her head. “I would have told you.”

“I don’t believe you”, he replied, voice cold as ice.

She did not even blame him anymore. “I’m sorry”, she repeated, the words echoing through the mind. She felt incredibly empty. Like someone had ripped her heart out.

There was a long silence. It seemed to last an eternity. Eventually, Jon turned away. “I need to leave.”

For a moment, her brain was not working. She only stared at him. “What?” she got out, without noticing that it was her voice. It felt like someone else was speaking, far away.

“I need some space. To think about all this.” He did not look back. All he did was open the door and leave the room, not even closing it behind him.

Melisandre felt like she was trapped in a bad dream. Only that vampires did not dream. Something passed through her head, for no more than a second, as if she had had this situation before. As if someone had left her, someday, in a past life. The pain in her chest was familiar to her, in some way.

 _He had promised he would never leave._ A tear ran down her cheek and another and another. She felt like she could no longer hold them back. He had promised her.

_Why did he speak of broken promises and then broke his own?_

 


	26. Hiraeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heartbreak is a crown   
> \- I wear it well.

She felt so hollow. So empty. As if there was no emotion left inside her. Jon had taken all of it with him. She could hear him going downstairs, almost running. _He was going to see Stannis._

She would have followed him, but she couldn’t. The sun was out, no cloud was shielding her from its rays.

More footsteps in the kitchen, Robb walking into the hallway to stop his brother. “What’s wrong?”, he was asking. She could hear the concern in his voice.

Jon didn’t answer, she heard him opening the front door. “I’m leaving!” The words burned in her soul. It was hurting so much. More tears on her cheeks.

“Why?” Robb asked, all innocent confusion. He didn’t know what she had done. “Where are you going?”

Jon’s steps stopped for a moment. “Out of town”, he replied. Melisandre closed her eyes in relief. He was not going to confront Stannis.

The front door was slammed shut. Silence. Robb’s footsteps on the stairs.

Quickly, she wiped her tears away. No one would see her cry.

Robb quietly entered the room, a deep frown on his face. He watched her for a moment. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

He did not seem to believe her, but didn’t continue asking, either. It was better that way. “What happened between the two of you?” he asked carefully.

Melisandre crossed her arms in front of her chest, trying very hard to hold back the tears. She was not going to cry now. “There was something I didn’t tell him until today”, she simply said.

Robb looked down for a moment. “Oh.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You know, Jon can be a little dramatic sometimes. He’s going to come back.”

 _Is he?_ She only remained silent. He was just trying to be nice. She appreciated that.

“Tell me if you need anything.” Robb turned around to leave. “You’re family.”

She looked at him in surprise, but he had already left. _Jon wouldn’t agree with that anymore._ Slowly, she walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. It did not feel like her bed anymore. The sheets still smelled like Jon. The whole room reminded her of him.

She stood up again, leaving the room. The second floor has no windows in the hallway, fortunately, so she was able to walk over to the second room, the one which had originally been hers. She had not been in there for weeks.

The room was terribly lonely. She closed the door behind her, the blinds here down, so it was pitch black. She lit a few candles, their heat radiating through the air. Their light made her feel better. A little, at least.

She curled up in the empty bed, the sheets smelling of nothing but detergents. It was a good smell. It reminded her of nothing. In that moment, she wished she could sleep. Forget about the reality for a little while. But that was not for her. No, she had to stay awake for the rest of her life in suffering. Her eyes followed the shadows dancing on the walls. It calmed her down a little. Made her feel less lonely.

But in that moment, she also knew what she was going to do next. Because slowly, the pain was turning into anger. _This was Stannis’ fault._ He had destroyed the only thing in her life that had been good. And she was going to make him pay for it, no matter the consequences. He was going to wish he had never crossed her.

 

-

 

The moon had not long risen when Melisandre left her room, a knife in the pocket of her leather jacket. She had considered taking a gun but she had always preferred knives somehow. And she knew Stannis did too, so it was rather fitting. He had always told her being good with the knife was more important than with guns, so now he would have the pleasure of a knife in his throat.

She had just made her way to the front door, when she heard someone saying her name behind her. Surprised, she turned around.

Jeyne was leaning in the door way from the kitchen, watching her. “Where are you going?” she wanted to know. She did not ask out of suspicion, Melisandre knew that. She asked because she was worried, because she cared.

“I have something to do.” It did not sound too believable, actually. But what was she supposed to say? _I’m going to kill Stannis because he ruined my relationship?_ Not the best answer, probably.

Jeyne frowned. “Why do you need a knife where you are going?” She approached Melisandre, striking a brown curl away from her face. “First Jon left and now you do!”

“I’m coming back”, Melisandre assured her, smiling a little. “There’s just someone I need to talk to.”

But Jeyne was not letting go yet. “Who do you need to talk to?” She seemed to sense that something was wrong. Her eyes were full of concern.

Sighing, Melisandre nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but then you need to let me go!” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s Stannis.”

Jeyne looked at her in confusion. “What?” She bit her lip. “Why would you go see him? He tried to murder everyone of us!”

“And I’m going to make him pay for that!” Melisandre turned to the door, this time really wanting to leave, but Jeyne held her back once more.

“You can’t go alone!” she protested. “I can come with you.”

Melisandre could not help but smile at the words. “Jeyne, that’s really sweet, but I can take care of myself. Besides it’s far too dangerous for you.” She really didn’t want to risk another life for her sake, least of all Jeyne’s.

Jeyne only crossed her arms in front of her chest, shaking her head. “I’m a wolf now, I can fight too!” she insisted.

Melisandre wished that were true. Things would be safer for her then. “No one has taught you yet, you need some training first.” She loosened Jeyne’s grip around her arm. “I need to go now. I’ll be back soon.” She smiled. “No need to worry.”

Jeyne still didn’t look convinced. “Robb won’t like this. He’s king now, he’s responsible for you!”

“He would like it far less if you came with me”, Melisandre replied, finally slipping out of the door. “Tell him he should train you, then you can come with us when we kick some ass.” She smiled one last time, before shutting the door behind her.

Robb probably would not like that either, but it was not a bad thing in itself. Jeyne needed to be able to protect herself, now that she was a wolf. Robb could not keep her safe forever.

Melisandre left the Stark’s land quickly, making her way towards Stannis’ part of town. She was moving quiet and swift, never making a sound, passing quite many of his man scattered across town unnoticed. Better for them. Then they wouldn’t have to feel her knife buried in her throats.

Perhaps that would have made her feel a little better. There had always been a certain kick about killing, in the moment where the adrenaline rushed through one’s body. Maybe that would have filled the void inside her that Jon’s absence had caused. She desperately needed something to fill the emptiness.

Stannis’ mansion was dark and silent, not a sound to be heard. Most of his men would be out in town, perhaps only a few even inside. She jumped over the fence, making her way around the house to the backside. As usual, she entered through one of the windows, hoping to make things quick and find Stannis in the library.

Silently, she walked through the hallways, always listening if there were any footsteps to be heard. But the mansion was silent.

As she reached the library, no one had crossed her path yet. Fortune seemed to be on her side, though, since Stannis was standing at his table, back turned to her and reading a book. Actually, she had wanted to throw the knife and end it right there. It would have been so easy. But something inside her was holding her back.

And suddenly, the moment had passed. Unexpectedly, Stannis turned around. His eyes met hers. He frowned. “Melisandre”, he greeted, sighing a little. “I need better guards, I suppose.”

“You do”, she agreed, walking into the room. He had not shifted his attention to the knife yet, only watched her move in complete calmness. “I’m sure you can imagine why I’m here.”

Stannis’ expression was frozen. “I heard your husband left town today.” He sighed deeply, but the concern was of course faked. “I suppose you were not made for each other after all.” He pointed to her right pocket. “Are you here to kill me?”

She felt the anger rise inside her. “Don’t speak about him!”

Stannis only smiled mildly, approaching her slowly.

Reflexively, she took a few steps back. “Why did you do this?” she wanted to know, slowly shaking her head. “What do you gain from it?” Her fingers closed around the knife in her pocket.

It took him a few seconds to react. “You were always my best fighter”, he finally said. “And my best adviser.”

She frowned at the words. Where was that coming from? _Ser Davos would not be pleased to here that._ Still, she remained silent. Waited what he had to say.

“I want you back, Melisandre”, Stannis continued. “Back on my side.”

Her jaw almost dropped. He could not be serious. For a moment, she only stared at him in disbelief. “You are joking.”

Stannis frowned. “Why would I be joking?”

Melisandre could not help but laugh. This was the most ridiculous thing she had heard in her life. “You _sold_ me to the Starks for an alliance!” She shook her head. “And now that I was finally happy you took that from me!”

Stannis was grinding his teeth, not answering.

Her fingers grew tighter around the knife. Within a second, she had reached him, pushing him backwards against the table, the blade pressed against his throat. “How is that?” she smiled, watching as the knife drew a little blood.

However, much to her discontent, Stannis was not even resisting. His face was utterly calm. “We both know you could never kill me.” He reached for her hand, but she only pressed the knife deeper into his skin.

“I would be very careful now”, she whispered. She felt it, the rush inside her body. For a moment, the void inside her was gone. She was desperately trying to hold onto it, but it lasted for no more than a second. Because she knew, deep inside her, that she was not going to do it. In the end, she would let the knife sink.

Stannis’ face never changed. “You had the chance to kill me before I even turned around, but you didn’t take it, meaning something held you back.” He looked down at the knife at his throat. “This is just your way of lying to yourself that you could actually do it!”

Melisandre bit her lip. “You don’t know me”, she replied. Unfortunately, he did.

In that second, she had grown inattentive. With a single move, Stannis had ripped the knife out of her hand, turning her around and now pushing her backwards against the table. The blade landed on the floor, the sound echoing from the walls for a second.

She hated herself for letting him distract. “Let go of me”, she muttered, trying to move as far away from him as possible. It was not easy, though, since he had her trapped between the table and his body. “Or kill me, I don’t mind. Everything is better than standing here like this”, she snapped, even though she was hoping he would choose the first option.

Stannis hesitated for a moment. Then, out of a sudden, he let go of her. His face seemed hard as stone. “I give you one last chance to change your mind. Join my side and I will spare your life. Refuse and leave now, but the next time I see you I _am_ going to kill you.”

 _Good luck trying._ Melisandre grabbed her knife from the ground, turning the blade in her hands. “I think I’ll go with option b.” With a last cold smile in Stannis’ direction, she hurried out of the library.

In that moment, she had unknowingly decided her destiny.


	27. Remembrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love her. That's the beginning and the end of everything.   
> \- F. Scott Fitzgerald

It was almost dawn when Jaime rolled onto his back, sitting up in the bed he shared with Cersei in the upper rooms of the castle. The blinds had already gone down, candles being the only source of light. He looked over to his sister, whose eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

She had always done that, even back when they had been children. She could stare at it for hours if she wanted, thinking about everything on her mind. Today it was warfare, most likely.

Usually, he would not disturb her. Whereas Cersei stared at the ceiling, he liked to look at her, no matter how many hours. But today, he had something on his mind.

As so often, she seemed to sense that, since she shifted and her eyes traveled to him. “What is it?” she wanted to know, reaching out and joining their hands.

It was familiar, her touch, but still so foreign, since actually it was never even supposed to happen. Cersei was queen now, though, a queen in her own castle and she could do as she pleased. With their father still out of town preparing the second lannister army, in secret of course, they had all the freedom in the world.

“The Stark boy left town last night”, he eventually said. “He’s heading north.”

Cersei frowned, turning around so she could face him. “Which Stark boy?”

“Not the eldest one. The bastard.” He considered for a second. “What’s his name, Jon?”

His sister only shrugged. “What does it matter? As long as Robb Stark is still in town.” She seemed almost careless. As if it was not her war they were talking about. As if she had read his mind, she sat up, blonde curls tangling around her body. The candle light gave them a golden glow. “Our spies say the Starks and Stannis are fighting a war among themselves! They seek to destroy each other.” Her lips curled up in a smile. “And while they’re busy destroying each other, they have no idea what is coming for them!”

She meant their father’s army, of course. Cersei was ever confident, never doubting. She had the throne and she was not willing to let it go. Still, a different thing came to his mind. “Do you remember the redhead? The one the Stark boy married.”

His sister shrugged. “Of course I remember, what about her?”

“Lord Varys says she’s still alive.” Jaime all to well remembered the girl, all fierce and hot temper. She had beat him that day, if Cersei had not interfered and put a knife in her back. It had been a long time since someone had beaten him with the sword. He was not used to the feeling anymore.

Cersei seemed to grow rather impatient. “What do we care if she is still alive?” She smiled, shifting closer to him. “No one can hurt us here.” She pressed a short kiss to his lips, playfully biting his lip.

“She beat me that day if you remember”, he disagreed. “She was _better_ than I was!”

His sister shook her head. “She was not.” She kissed him again. “I’m your queen and you’re my knight. Why do you care about others?” Cersei had always loved to play princess and knight in their childhood, with Jaime coming to save and rescue her. Actually, after their turning, she did not need for him to protect her anymore, but they always liked to keep it that way. “We’re the only two people in the world”, she whispered again his lips, and oh how much he wished that was true.

He kissed her back, pulling her body closer so they were able to touch. In these moments, it truly felt as if her words were true.

She broke it off for a moment, only to rest her forehead against his. “We are going to defeat our enemies. Every one of them. We will see them all burn.” Her eyes seemed to glow in the weak light of the candles. Her fingers caressed his jaw.

“What happens when father gets back?” Jaime asked, striking a curl of golden hair away from her face.

Tywin Lannister had always been the one to look away, convincing everyone that all the rumors about his children were not in fact true. One clear look and he would have known. Perhaps he even did know, deep inside.

Cersei only smiled. “What do we care? I am the queen and he is only an old man. He can return to Casterly Rock if he wishes, enjoy the rest of eternity there, but I will not have him dictate me anymore.”

It were fancy words she was speaking, but Jaime knew her well enough to know they were not true. Many times she had said this before and many times she had obeyed their father nonetheless. She was her father’s daughter, after all. Always there to protect their legacy, just as Tywin had done for centuries. All that mattered was the Lannister name.

A knock on the door ripped the two of them apart, Cersei quickly getting up and throwing on a gown which was splattered on the floor from the night before. She opened the door to one of the servants, quietly talking with her for a few moments.

Jaime let himself sink into the sheets again, not listening to the conversation. His mind was still occupied with the girl. Actually, he had forgotten her name, but he knew that he had seen her before on Stannis’ side. He wondered what that had to do with anything.

Cersei pushed the door shut, a triumphant smile on her lips. “The Stark boy just arrived at a cemetery outside town.”

“What’s there to smile about?” he wanted to know.

His sister let her gown fall to the floor, climbing back into the bed. “Well, he did not take his wife. He is there to visit his fiance, I’m sure you remember her, the little wolf who died back then.”

Jaime frowned. He actually did remember. “Of course, the murder they blamed on me”, he replied sarcastically.

Cersei ignored the undertone. “Rumor is that Stannis ordered it to place his girl inside the Stark family. The whole plan blew up and now the Starks and Baratheon’s are at war.” She looked as pleased as if she had arranged the whole thing herself.

Jaime simply returned the smile, leaning forward to kiss her. He didn’t care how many wars they had to fight, how many people they had to kill. Cersei wanted that throne and he was going to give it to her, so they could be together. Because that was all he had ever wanted. To stand in front of the world and be with the only woman he had and would ever love.

 

-

 

It was midday when Jon eventually reached his destination, parking his car in front of the cemetery and getting out. It was much colder than in the city, a cold wind blowing from the north. The sky was littered with clouds, almost swallowing all sunlight.

Jon left his car and walked over to the gate, hesitating for a moment. He had not been here since the funeral, something had always held him back. Now, he felt horrible for not having come sooner.

Slowly, he walked over the muddy path, further to the back of the cemetery. It was a beautiful place really, with trees and flowers and a surrounding forest. Ygritte would have liked it. She had never been fond of the city, since she had not grown up there, and therefore it felt right to bury her outside town.

He stopped in front of her grave, blankly staring at the tombstone for a few seconds. What was he even doing here? Why had he come? Actually, he had meant to take the road to Stannis. He had meant to go there and crush his skull the second he had eyes on him. But the rational part of his mind had reminded him that murder was not the solution for everything and in that moment he had decided to take a different road. And here he was. At the cemetery.

Ygritte’s name on the stone reflected a single sun ray which fell from the sky, lighting up for a moment. If Jon was honest, it had been long since he had really thought about her. He had hoped the feelings for her had vanished by now, but he felt the familiar pain in his chest when he read the words on the stone. She really was gone.

Still, there was another thing which pained him, even more perhaps. He felt bad for standing here at Ygritte’s grave and think of somebody else, but he could not stop it. Melisandre was in on his mind, every second since he had left her. By now, he regretted the way things had turned out. Usually, he was not the kind to just go and leave. _But she had lied to him._ For weeks, even months, she had kept this from him. Still, he regretted not even having asked why. He should have given her a chance to explain herself.

His eyes traveled back to Ygritte’s name on the stone. He had never had a proper chance to say goodbye, not even avenge her death. But now he had that, at least. He could make Stannis pay for what he had done.

For some more minutes, he just stood there, listening to the cracking of leaves and the singing of birds around him. He was not yet ready to let go, to return to the city. Was he ready to forgive Melisandre? Could he ever trust her again? He loved her, that much he knew. And he wanted to be with her. _Needed_ to be with her. And still, she was keeping things from him, going around his back. He had not yet found out why.

Still, he loved her. It began and ended with that. He was not ready to let her slip away that easily. He was still angry with her, of course, still hurt and disappointed, but they could work through that.

Slowly, he took a few steps backwards. “Goodbye Ygritte”, he whispered, almost as if the stone could answer. But of course, it answered only with silence. Perhaps he had needed this last visit, to make peace with what had happened. He would always love Ygritte. But he had to move forward.

On the way back to his car, he reached for his phone in the pocket of his jeans. _3 missed calls from Robb._ Jon sighed, dialing his brother’s number and waiting for the call to connect.

“Finally!” his brother greeted him as he answered the phone. “I thought you had left the country!”

Jon rolled his eyes, opening the door to his car and letting himself fall into the seat. “I’m on my way back.”

Robb was silent for a second. “Good”, he said eventually. “Your wife almost murdered Stannis today, it’s time you come back and calm her down a little. She’s quite angry with you, though.”

He could imagine that all too well. Why Melisandre would jump at Stannis, though, was not too clear to him. “I’ll be there in a few hours”, he assured his brother, before saying goodbye and hanging up. He was going to talk to Robb once he had solved things with Melisandre. Although he had the slight fear that that was not going to be too easy.

He started the engine and rolled out of the parking spot, heading back to the city. The sky had grown dark by now, heavy clouds littered over the sky. The sun was just vanishing, leaving a part of the horizon the scarlet of blood. He wondered if that was some kind of bad foreshadowing.

 

-

 

Melisandre said in the dark of her bedroom, staring blankly at the wall in front of her. The shadow of the candle danced across the room. It was very silent. Somewhere in the house Robb and Jeyne were talking, she could hear the distant sound of water boiling on an oven. They were cooking. Catelyn was sitting in her room reading a book, in front of the small fireplace that was in her room. Actually, most rooms in the house had one, but it was barely in use. Catelyn’s was, however, and the wood cracked quietly as it burned to ashes. A comforting sound, really.

Actually, Melisandre was trying really hard not to think. Especially not about Jon. All she wanted was to distract her mind, to find something else to put her thoughts to. Unfortunately, there was nothing. The only thing that filled her head was Jon. The way he left. His last words. Even here, in the bed where he had probably never slept in, she could still smell a distant note of his aftershave.

She felt the horrible need to leave, to get away from everything he had ever touched, but she couldn’t. The sun had not yet gone down entirely. So she was stuck inside, in the darkness of a foreign room where her only light had left.

Her eyes traveled through the darkness, over the walls up to the ceiling. And suddenly, an image flashed through her mind. _A dark alley. Footsteps echoing through the silence. Bloodstains on the pathway. A dark car._ They were loose imagines, without connection, just slipping through her head. And still, they all felt familiar. Like they belonged to a life long forgotten, already lived. Were those her memories? She couldn’t remember to ever have been in that alley or have seen that car before, but she was suddenly sure that these images meant something. _Was that her past?_

She stared into the flame of the candle, trying her best to see the alley in front of her eyes. Houses on either side. A small pathway, cars parked on the street. Leaves covering the ground. It might have been fall. She saw it all in front of her eyes, as if she had been there, but she couldn’t remember. Why had there been footsteps?

A sound in front of the house interrupted her thinking, since it sounded much like a car engine. _Jon’s car._ Her nails dug into the sheets of the bed, close to ripping them. The car was stopped, engine turned off. The door was opened and Jon got out, beginning to approach the house. Robb seemed to have heard him too, since she heard him leave the kitchen and walk into the hallway. She felt her heart tighten as Jon entered the house, greeting his brother. He didn’t sound angry at all.

“Where have you been?” Robb now wanted to know, sounding just as impatient as Melisandre felt.

There was a short pause. “At the cemetery”, Jon eventually answered. “Visiting Ygritte.”

The words hurt a lot more than they should have. _He still loved her._ Once more, she felt the tears burning in her eyes. How could she have been so stupid?

Slowly, she curled up in the sheets, covering her head so she would not have to hear the rest of the conversation. Still, she was not able to completely ignore it. Especially not when she heard her name.

“Where is Melisandre?” she heard Jon ask. “Is she still here?”

 _Where else would she be?_ Robb answered something she didn’t quite catch, but apparently it had been something similar to a yes, since Jon began to walk upstairs. _Oh please don’t._

Quickly, she sat up again, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. He would not see her cry. He was now almost on the second floor, the stairs cracking under each step. A few more and he would be here.

For a second, she considered to leave. But the sun had still not disappeared entirely, and she was not too eager to accidently burn to death. On the other hand, what did it matter? But it was too late, anyway, since Jon had already reached the room next door and had noticed her absence in it. He was on his way over to her now, his steps outside growing louder and louder. She closed her eyes for a moment.


	28. Haunting

Melisandre heard the door open and the light from the hallway illuminated the dark room, sending shadows dancing across the walls. The candle light died a quick death.

Slowly, Jon made a step inside, pressing the light switch and closing the door behind him.

She gave her best not to look up. She feared looking into his eyes, feared what she would see there.

Jon took a deep breath, eyes searching the room for a few seconds, before eventually resting on her. “We need to talk”, he broke the silence.

She needed a moment before she was able to answer. “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it.” The coldness in her voice surprised even herself. It did not even feel like she was speaking herself.

His heartbeat quickened in reaction to the words. He didn’t expect the answer. “Why are you angry with me?” he wanted to know.

Actually, she did not feel angry at all. Just empty. So incredibly empty. “You left.” It was a simple statement, with a not so simple backstory.

“Because you lied to me”, Jon answered, voice a little more tense than just before. He was still angry, but holding it back. This time, he did not yell. She was thankful he didn’t. “You lied to me for months and only decided to tell me when there was no other choice.”

Her eyes were fixed on the bed sheets, its white almost blinding her. She would not look at him. “You went to see Ygritte.” The words hurt, even just saying them.

Jon was silent for a moment. “I went to say goodbye.”

Honestly, that sounded ridiculous in her ears. “After two years you just suddenly decided to say goodbye?” she snapped back, sounding a lot more hurt than she had intended. She was hoping he wouldn’t notice. _He loves her more than me._ The thought wouldn’t leave her mind, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. Why had he gone to see her today? _He’s not over her._ The realization made everything ten times worse.

“This had nothing to do with Ygritte”, Jon said eventually, approaching the bed on which she was still sitting. “Don’t make this about her when it’s actually about you not trusting me!” Now he sounded angry.

It was the first time she looked at him. “I didn’t keep it from you because I didn’t trust you.” She felt like they had had the same argument before. _I kept it from you because I was afraid exactly this would happen._

Jon took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “Then why don’t you let me in? Why do you make decisions for me and keep things from me?” He clenched his jaw. “You promised me there would be no more secrets between us. How can I trust you if you keep lying to me?”

Actually, she had no answer to that. Although he was wrong. She had let him in. And perhaps that had been a mistake. _How can I trust you, if you break your promise?_

When she didn’t reply, Jon sighed. “Can you please say something?”

“What am I supposed to say?” she replied coolly, getting up from the bed. She felt the strong urge to leave. She should have done so minutes ago.

But he held her back. “Don’t run from me!” he insisted, blocking her way to the door.

She stopped a few steps away from him. “Well, that’s what you did, isn’t it.” If he had the right to just leave, so had she.

She had meant to hurt him with the words, make him more angry, but Jon only shook his head at the words. “I didn’t leave.” He looked at her for a moment. “I could never leave you”, he added. His voice was almost sad. There was no lie in his eyes.

Their eyes met for a brief second. Then she stepped back. “Do you still love Ygritte?” The thought didn’t want to leave her head. She was dead, why did she care so much?

Jon frowned at the words. “Would it make a difference if I did?” That was not an answer.

She nodded. “Yes.” But actually, there was no need to say anything. She could read it in his face.

Instead of saying anything, he approached her and reached out to touch her face. “I love _you_.” Still not an answer.

The last thing she wanted to be was the second choice. She had been that for Stannis, she wouldn’t be it again. Tears were burning in her eyes. “I love you too”, she whispered, shaking her head. “But I can’t do this.”

Jon’s face was full of confusion. “What do you mean?” he wanted to know, attempting to hold her back, but she backed away quickly.

“I need to figure some things out”, she muttered, pushing the window open. She had meant to leave before he had a chance to stop her, but unfortunately she failed.

His hands were on her waist, turning her around so her back was pressed against the window. There was no room for escaping now. His fingers traced her jaw softly, only barely touching the skin.

A shiver ran down her spine, she couldn’t help it. “Let go of me, please”, she whispered, but it sounded weak, even in her own ears. No more than an empty pleading.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I let you go”, he replied, his face now so close that his forehead touched hers. “You only need to say it.”

She wanted to say it, she really did, but the words got stuck in her throat. Her eyes were fixed on his lips, not able to look away. So instead of getting the words out, she leaned forward and kissed him.

It was soft at first, tender, as if he was not sure if she really wanted it. But then his tongue flicked into her mouth, bodies now as close as they could be. She shuddered under his touch, as his fingers went through her hair and danced across her jaw and collarbone. It felt like a dream, the way he kissed her. As if for a moment, time had frozen.

But of course, it had not. And it was not a dream, but reality.

Abruptly, she broke the kiss. _This was a mistake,_ it echoed through her mind. She was not able to think straight.

With one quick move, she jumped onto the window sill, letting herself fall into the dark night before he was able to react. The cool night air was stroking her face, wind softly blowing her hair. Closing her eyes for a moment, she remained in the shadow of the mansion, back leaned against the thick stone wall. Honestly, she had no idea what she had been thinking. Kissing him did not exactly make anything easier.

Above her head, she could hear his steps leading into the hallway, towards the steps. _Was he going to follow her?_ But his steps led him back into the kitchen, where his brother probably was, judging from the heartbeat radiating from the room. Two hearts were beating on the first floor, meaning Catelyn and Jeyne had to be upstairs.

It was hard to hear through the stone, but she gave her best to understand the conversation. She felt terrible doing it, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“How did it work out?” she could hear Robb’s voice now. He seemed to be pretty concerned.

Jon sighed. “Terrible”, he replied.

The sound of his voice broke her heart. She had never meant to hurt him. But the thought of Ygritte was eating her up inside. _Where did she get those abandonment issues from? Her former life?_ She wondered if everything would be easier if she could just remember more than a dark alley who knows how long ago.

Suddenly, an idea sparked her mind. What if she found that alley? If she saw it again, perhaps the memories would come back. She only had to find it. For a moment, she closed her eyes, trying to reconstruct the image of the alley from earlier. There was a skyscraper who looked familiar to her if the memory was correct, somewhere on the right. That meant she only had to search the area west of that building.

Quickly, she listened if Robb and Jon continued their talk, but the voices had died by now. She would find that alley, and her memories with it. And then, she would find the person who had taken them from her in the first place.

It took her about an hour to find the right alley, but finally she was standing in the same spot in which she remembered having stood before. Unfortunately, that was about all that she remembered.

But there had been footsteps, meaning someone else had been here. She turned around, looking down the empty street. The street lights barely illuminated anything and it was a new moon, therefore the sky was pitch black.

 _New moon._ Something inside her head remembered as she looked up to the horizon. It had been a new moon that night, too. That explained the darkness.

Carefully, she began walking down the alley, eyes searching for anything which might look familiar. There had been a dark car, at the other side of the street. It had been waiting. Something inside her told her it had been waiting. Waiting for her? For someone else?

She looked down onto the pathway. That night there had been bloodstains. The image was sort of blurry, but the scarlet glimpses on the dark stone were now almost as clear to her as if they were still there.

To her left side, there was a stone wall now, edges covered by green moss. Somehow, the place felt even more familiar. Slowly, she let her fingers run over the cold stone. She had been here before, she was certain. The alley ended shortly after, only stretching a few more meters. It was almost pitch black in this area, the last street light too far away to help. She leaned her back against the wall, and suddenly more memories seemed to be sparked.

_The roar of a car engine. Car seats stripped with black leather. Blood. Lots of it. Someone screaming._

There was no real order to how the things came back to her head, everything seemed to be out of place. Why had she been in that car? Or more importantly, why had there been so much blood? Melisandre ran a hand through her hair, trying to ignore the fact that they were shaking. Why had she been here in the first place? This alley was leading nowhere. Why would someone go this way?

Obviously, she was not getting very far with remembering. Everything was just bits and pieces and she was not able to make them fit together properly.

 

-

 

Jon was sitting on the living room table, head resting on his hands and eyes fixed on the empty chairs around him. It was utterly silent, only the quiet ticking of a clock was to be heard.

Melisandre had not come back yet, and to be honest he was not sure if he wanted her to come back so soon after all. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, whatever he did seemed to be wrong. Why couldn’t she just trust him? Was that so hard? He had trusted her, after all, even though she had been spying on his family for Stannis at first. But he had trusted her, because he loved her and he wanted to be with her. But she did not seem to share that wish.

There were steps in the hallway suddenly, causing him to look up. Seconds later Robb entered the room, followed by Jeyne.

His brother’s face was everything but happy. When he noticed Jon, he threw a piece of paper onto the table. “From Stannis”, he explained. His eyes were burning with fury. “A declaration of open war. He writes that every time his men meet someone who is no Baratheon ally, he is going to be slaughtered!”

Jon’s mind went to Melisandre immediately, even though he tried to fight it. She was out there at the moment.

“Soon there will be nothing but butchering on the streets”, Robb growled angrily, beginning to pace the room nervously. “We can’t hold our land if we’re at open war with Cersei _and_ Stannis!” He looked at Jon for a moment. “Could you please say something?”

Jon sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I am not the king. It’s not my decision.”

His brother shook his head. “You could advice your king!” he hissed. He looked as lost as a little boy.

In that moment, there was a knock at the door and it was opened, Theon Greyjoy entering the room. “Your grace”, he greeted Robb. “You called for me.” Theon had been living with them for years now, almost becoming another brother to Jon and especially Robb. Robb had always valued his advice and perhaps he was of more help than Jon in his current state of mind.

“What am I supposed to do about Cersei and Stannis? I can’t beat them both”, Robb repeated the issue.

Theon shrugged. “Make an alliance. Stannis is off the table, I guess, but what about the Lannister’s?”

Robb shook his head. “And how am I supposed to make an alliance? I have nothing to offer!”

“Cersei has a daughter, hasn’t she? Living somewhere in the south. Offer her a marriage proposal. Bran, for example. Join your families”, Theon proposed, reaching for one of the chairs and sitting down at the table. “Or that’s what I would do if I were you.”

Robb’s eyes sparkled with fury. “Cersei Lannister cut our father’s head off!” he growled, clenching his jaw.

Jon looked down at the table, his father’s face in front of his eyes. _Winter is coming,_ he had always said. “Do you remember what he used to say?” Jon asked. “ _The lone wolf dies but the pack survives_.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” his brother snapped. “We will not make an alliance with the woman who murdered our father!”

Sometimes Robb was too hot tempered for his own good, Jon sometimes noticed. “If we don’t make an alliance, we die. You, me, our family, all of your people.” Jon made a short pause, watching his brother’s reaction. “Father wouldn’t want that. A Lannister alliance is the smartest thing we could do. Offer Cersei a marriage. Offer her peace between our families.”

Robb’s eyes went over to Jon for a moment. “Our last alliance by marriage didn’t work out all to well, did it?” he muttered, continuing to pace the room. “And Bran with a Lannister… I don’t know.”

“It is the best shot we’ve got”, Jon replied.

His brother looked everything but happy. “But why would Cersei agree? She has the power to crush us and we used to be allied with Stannis.”

Jon thought about the words for a few seconds. “If she has the power, why hasn’t she done it yet? Why not attack and be done with it?” He looked over to Robb and Theon, both equally frowning. “Why should she sit back and hide in her castle if she could destroy us or Stannis?”

“Are you going to tell us the answer or just raise more questions?” Theon asked impatiently.

Robb interrupted him. “He means to say that Cersei is waiting for us and Stannis to fight among ourselves until only one enemy is left for her, meaning that she doesn’t have the strength to take on both of us.” He sighed. “That could also mean that if we offer her to assist in fighting Stannis she agree.”

Jon nodded. “It could work.”

“It sounds like a solid plan”, Theon agreed. “But she will most definitely want you to kneel to her.”

Robb frowned, interrupting his pacing for a moment. “I have promised my people that we would govern ourselves, without a vampire monarch. I can not kneel to her!”

For the first time in the conversation, Jeyne took the word. “Maybe they will understand. Your people, I mean. Maybe you should just tell them about your plans and wait for their reaction.”

Robb sighed deeply. “Cersei Lannister murdered my father. Wolves are proud, and they remember. They won’t forgive it.”

Jon shook his head. “There is no need to forgive it. But vengeance is not the right way to win a war.”

“We’ll speak to the other clans about it”, Theon agreed. For the first time, he looked over to Jon. “Have you lost your bride?” he commented, smiling teasingly. “Or did she get bored at you already?”

Robb rolled his eyes, cracking a small smile.

Jon simply ignored the question.

His brother sighed. “You should call Melisandre and tell her to come back. It’s not safe in the streets.”

“She wouldn’t answer if I called”, Jon muttered, getting up from his chair.

Jeyne seemed to sense the worry in his words, since she reached for her phone. “I’ll call her”, she decided, smiling a reassuring smile and holding the phone to her ear. After a few seconds, Melisandre seemed to have answered. “Hey”, Jeyne greeted, looking over to Jon. “Listen, some things have happened, could you come to the mansion as soon as possible?” She listened for a few seconds. “Okay, great. Bye.” She hang up, smiling at Jon. “She said she would be back soon.”

Jon felt more relief than he would have liked to admit. “Thank you, Jeyne”, he replied, crossing the room and walking over to the door. He opened the door and walked into the hallway, just when the front door was opened and Melisandre slipped inside.

Her eyes got caught on him, red and gray meeting. For a second, the world seemed to stop.

But then she looked away. “Jeyne?” she asked, loudly enough that one could hear her in the living room. “You told me to come back?”

Jeyne came into the hallway, hugging Melisandre quickly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Melisandre only smiled, looking over to Jon for a brief second, before her eyes went back to Jeyne. “Why was it so urgent?”

The other girl bit her lip, quickly glancing to Jon. “Oh, I think Jon is very eager to tell you everything!” She smiled. “See you guys later!” Too quickly for anyone to react, she hushed back into the living room, closing the door behind her.

For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence. Jon had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Eventually, Melisandre said something. “So, what exactly happened?”

“Stannis proclaimed open war, now we need to form an alliance with the woman who murdered our father”, Jon replied, trying to keep his voice as cool as possible.

She nodded slowly. “Wow, I’m gone for a few hours and everything goes downhill!”

He meant to roll his eyes at her words, but stopped himself. He was still angry at her. Or at the very least, he tried to be. Frowning, he looked outside for a moment. “It will be dawn soon, won’t it? You should get upstairs?” Actually, he was just searching for an excuse to leave the hallway and continue the conversation elsewhere, but it was not a lie. It was shortly before dawn.

“Yes I should”, she agreed, walking over to the stairs.

At first, he had meant to stay downstairs. But he couldn’t bring himself to stay, so instead he followed her upstairs. Perhaps what they had was worth fighting for.

 


	29. Regrets

“Where have you been?” Jon wanted to know when they entered their bedroom upstairs.

She had expected the question, of course, but had not thought of an answer yet. He watched her carefully as she walked over to the bed, slowly sitting down. She was just trying to buy some time. “I was trying to remember something from my past”, she finally said.

Jon frowned at the words. “What do you mean, you were trying to? Do you remember anything or not?” He sounded impatient, tired. Tired of having to deal with her, perhaps.

“It’s not that easy”, she insisted, nervously wringing her hands.

He sighed deeply. “Nothing ever is with you, Melisandre.” He turned to the window, hands resting on the window sill. “Then explain it to me”, he added, more calm this time.

She remained silent for a moment. “I remember some things, just disconnected images from a certain night. There was an alley, I can recall having been there. So I went there hoping other things would come back.”

Jon took a deep breath. “And?” he wanted to know. “Did anything else come back?”

“No”, she replied. “Nothing useful.” It was not a lie. The images in her head had not made anything more clear, only more complicated.

He turned to look at her again. “Who do you think wiped your memories in the first place? Stannis?”

She bit her lip. Stannis had always denied doing so, claiming he didn’t know anything about her losing her memories. In his version of the story, he had found her half dead and only saved her by biting her. That was all he had ever told her about it. “I don’t know”, she eventually answered. “Stannis never told me anything.” Why would he want her former life erased, though? What did he gain?

Jon approached her slowly. “And he never told you anything about why he turned you?” There was a slight hint of accusation in his tone.

She frowned. “No, I told you he didn’t.” She was growing impatient. Why was he so eager to blame this on her?

“And you never asked? You never wondered why he didn’t want to speak about it?” Jon continued. More accusations.

Slowly, she stood up from the bed. “Of course I asked!” Now she was angry. “But what was I supposed to do about it?”

He was silent for a second, turning back to the window, staring mindlessly at the blinds which shut the rising sun out of the room.

“If you think Ygritte’s death is my fault, just say so”, she added, walking over to him. Because she was thinking this was what he was trying to imply.

Jon’s eyes went over to her for a brief second. “That was not what I was implying.” His voice was tense, his features seemed frozen. “I am only wondering how you lived with Stannis for two years without ever wondering why you had literally zero memories about your past and you never suspected he could have anything to do with it!”

Melisandre sighed. “That’s not true”, she insisted. “I did suspect it, but what should I have done?”

“Not sleep with him, for a start”, Jon muttered, face turned away from her.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _After all this time._ “Will you ever get over that?” she hissed, back leaned against Jon’s dresser.

“No I won’t”, he growled, turning towards her again.

The next thing she knew were his lips on hers and his body pressing her against the wood of the dresser behind her, not leaving an inch of space between their bodies. His teeth dug into her bottom lip, tongue playing with hers.

Her fingers traveled through his hair down to his neck, nails stroking over the skin. She could feel his pulse under the tips of her fingers, just as quick as his racing heart.

He began undressing her top, followed by his shirt, so that their naked skin could touch. A shiver ran down her spine as the warmth of his body met her own coldness, always at war with one another.

Quickly he got rid of her jeans too, lifting her up and placing her on the dresser. His kisses went down her neck, leaving bruises against the pallor. Warm breath danced across the skin, making her tremble under his touch.

She wrapped her legs around Jons body, pulling him closer and joining their lips again.

She wondered if one could be addicted to another person, to the taste of their lips and the feeling of their skin. Was that just another kind of love? An all-consuming, never ending love? Or was it just craving, purely physical, ending as soon as the two bodies parted?

She wondered if this was perhaps both. And if it would end up being a deadly mixture.

 

-

 

“It was a mistake”, Jon proclaimed, getting his pants back on and giving his best to avoid looking at her.

He was right, though. Problems could not always be solved this way. She remained seated on the dresser, only in her underwear, watching him get dressed. Now that it was over she felt the emptiness again, the void inside her which appeared the moment he had left.

Jon seemed to sense that something was off, since his eyes were suddenly fixed on her. He was frowning. “I didn’t mean to hurt you”, he said slowly, making a few steps towards her. “I just meant-”

She interrupted him. “I know what you meant.”

Their eyes met for a moment, a second too long perhaps. He reached for her hand.

Quickly, she looked away. Nothing had changed between them, not even because his touch made a shiver run down her spine. There were still too many open questions.

He took a deep breath, his hand softly playing with hers. “Can we not just forget everything that happened?”

 _How much she wished they could do that._ “And how long until something else happens? Something which makes us have the same argument all over again?” She sighed. Perhaps this just was not working. Perhaps they were not made for each other after all. _Then why did it feel like they were?_

He only looked at her for a moment. “What are you saying, we should just give up?” Now he sounded truly afraid. “A divorce, is this what you want?” He let go of her hand.

To be fair, he was a little paranoid. She quickly shook her head. “That was not what I meant.” She was craving his touch, even only a soft brush of his hand. Carefully, she moved forward to the edge of the dresser, so that their bodies would almost touch again. “Maybe we should just take things a little… slower”, she suggested.

He frowned. “Slower in what way?”

 _Not have sex whenever we’re fighting._ She didn’t say it, of course. But she had no other answer either. She loved him, loved him so much it hurt her whenever they were apart. On the other hand, this was not working. Their arguments never let anywhere, but they still had them, since they were both to stubborn to give up. “I don’t know”, was all she had to say. There was truly nothing else.

“Great”, Jon replied, voice drowning in sarcasm. He reached for her waist and lifted her from the dresser, gently placing her on the ground. “You should get dressed. Robb wants to speak to the clans about a Lannister alliance.” He turned away from her, crossing the room. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Melisandre bit her lip, reaching for her clothes on the floor. “Sure”, she muttered, watching him leave and shut the door behind him.

 

-

 

Jon met Robb and the other leaders of the clans outside the house, once again sitting around a fire. His brother was standing a few meters away, talking to Lord Umber.

Melisandre joined them shortly afterwards, sitting down next to him silently. She turned quite the few heads, Theon being one of them. To be honest, he would have gladly punched him in the face. He didn’t, of course. He just stared at him, jaw tensed and fists clenched.

Melisandre seemed to have noticed, since she looked over to him. “Is something wrong?”

“Fine”, he just muttered, since Theon had just turned away and was looking somewhere else. Better for him.

In the very moment Robb raised his voice and asked for silence, making all the conversations die at once. His eyes searched for Jon for a moment, as if he was trying to find the courage to go through with the plan. “As you might know, we are currently at war”, Robb began.

“The King in the North!” someone yelled from the back, some others nodding in agreement.

Jon frowned slightly. They wouldn’t be this enthusiastic once they heard Robb was planning to bow to the Lannisters from now on. But the question was simple: kneeling or death. His father had chosen death, and his children would not make the same mistake.

His brother took a deep breath. “And we will not be able to win it if we don’t make alliances.”

It was utterly silent for a moment.

“What good is an alliance with vampires?” Lord Umber raised his voice, standing up slowly. “Stannis Baratheon attacked you in your own house, attempting to slaughter your family. Is that a man you would want to make peace with?”

Robb’s face seemed to be frozen. “No one was talking about Stannis.”

Somewhere in the back, Rickard Karstark jumped up. “Cersei Lannister killed both my sons”, he growled, stepping closer to the fire. “They both died for your father. The father she executed.”

“A little more respect when talking to the king”, Theon interrupted, now getting up as well and standing next to Robb.

Karstark laughed. “If he gives that woman peace, he is no longer my king.”

This was going even worse than Jon had expected. Some other men were already nodding in response to Karstark, the crowd seemed to have grown impatient. “If we don’t make an alliance, we will all be dead in a fortnight!” A few heads turned to Jon, glaring at him for a few seconds.

Rickard Karstark smiled. “He just says that because he is married to Stannis’ little whore.”

Jon had meant to jump at his throat the very moment the words left his mouth, but Melisandre’s nails dug into his arm. “Don’t”, she whispered. “Don’t make things any worse for Robb.”

He considered her words for a few seconds, but then he nodded. She was right, of course, but that didn’t make him any less angry.

But Robb interfered before he had the chance to say anything. “Lord Karstark, I think it is best if you leave now. Your service is no longer needed.”   
Actually, this had not been the best move. Of course Jon liked to have Karstark out of sight, but Robb was the king and he depended on him and his men. He could not just send him away.

“You are no king of mine”, Karstark spitted, before turning around and walking off. Numerous men got up and followed him.

“Your grace.” Someone else got up somewhere in the back, walking towards the king. It was Roose Bolton. “We support your alliance with the Lannister’s, as all true men should.” He looked around him. “The King in the North”, he said quietly.

This time the response was less loud and frequent, but still there. Not everyone had lost faith yet.

Robb’s eyes rested on Jon for a second. “Can we have a word, brother?” he asked, making a quick gesture towards the house.

Jon nodded, exchanging a brief look with Melisandre before getting up and following Robb walking away from the crowd.

As soon as the other’s could not hear them anymore, Robb turned around. There was true panic in his eyes. “The Karstark men will abandon us, so will other’s. What do we have to offer to Cersei Lannister if we lose half of our forces?”

Jon took a deep breath. “We must rely on the marriages.”

His brother shook his head. “One marriage for peace…”

“Make it three”, Jon suggested. “Cersei has two boys as well. The eldest was once promised to Margaery Tyrell, but since her death… he will be king when the time comes. Sansa could be a good match.”

Robb ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t force both the girls to marry Lannisters. They’ve never even met them before!” Now he looked truly lost. “I need to speak to my mother about that matter.” He sighed. “If Cersei refuses this alliance, we have lost all those men for nothing. It’s a great risk we are taking.”

“It’s the only thing we can do”, Jon answered. “We don’t have any other choice.”

His brother nodded slowly. “Our spies say Tywin Lannister is still out of town, somewhere in Lannisport most likely. I sent some men to find out what he is doing for so long.” Robb frowned. “I don’t like the fact that he is gone for so long. He is hand of the queen, he should be with Cersei here in town, where we know what he is up to.”

“Some people say he’s unhappy with his daughter occupying the throne”, Jon replied. The rumors about Tywin Lannister’s discontent about a woman ruling in her own right had been rising ever since he had left town, many saying his daughter had stopped listening to him and started making her own questionable decisions.

“Who would he prefer, Stannis?” Robb joked, but there was no joy in his tone.

Jon didn’t feel much like laughing either. “Cersei’s eldest son, some say. He’s more likely to listen to Tywin and he has a much better claim being Robert’s son.”

Robb only shrugged. “If they want to have a civil war among themselves, let them. Just buys us more time to discuss our possibilities.”

 _Which possibilities? Death or defeat?_ He didn’t say it, of course. His brother seemed to have more hope left than Jon and he was not sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Because in the end, realism was always better for survival than too much optimism.

 


	30. Queen of Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look mother, look at me now  
> kingdoms blooming beneath my feet  
> and a throne of shadows for me.

It was three days later when Cersei Lannister had granted Robb and Jon an audience, since they had decided it would be best if both of them went.

To Melisandre, this was a stupid plan. Every other person would have sent an ambassador to discuss the alliance, but of course the Starks were reckless enough to go themselves. And also of course, they were too stubborn for anyone to change their minds.

“This is a really risky plan, you know”, Melisandre tried again, shortly before Jon was planning to leave.

He was just now slipping into his jacket, facing the mirror. He didn’t react to her words.

“What will stop Cersei from just murdering the both of you?” she asked, wringing her hands. She was pacing through the room slowly, trying to calm down. She had a really bad feeling about this. Besides the fact that she didn’t like the idea of this alliance at all.

Jon looked over his shoulder for a second, seemingly noticing her behavior. “There’s no need to worry”, he simply said.

 _That’s easy for you to say._ “You really shouldn’t go”, she urged once more, although knowing he wouldn’t listen. When did he ever? Starks always liked to run straight into their doom.

This time, he turned around. “We have to!” he replied, more harsh this time. But his face showed instant regret. “We need an alliance”, he added, softer.

“Why do you need an alliance with the woman who beheaded your father?” she wanted to know, arms crossed in front of her. How could they just forgive her for doing that? It had not even been her father but she was still angry. _How did one forgive something like that?_

Jon sighed at her words. “Who else is there for an alliance? Stannis?”

She shrugged. “Better than Cersei.” She still wanted to kill Stannis, but a lot less than Cersei Lannister.

For a moment, Jon seemed to study her face. His eyes pierced right through her. “Sometimes I wonder where your loyalties lie.”

The statement almost made her laugh. Where _her_ loyalties lay? She was not the one wanting to make peace with the enemy. “Cersei Lannister is the enemy”, she replied, shaking her head.

“So is Stannis”, Jon hissed, growing more and more impatient. He took a deep breath. “Cersei has the better position. She already has the castle, the throne and a better army. Betting on her is the smart choice.” He clenched his jaw. “But of course we all know why _you_ wish to make peace with Stannis.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was getting ridiculous. “Do what you want”, she shrugged, turning away and sitting down on the bed. “Get yourself killed, I don’t care. But don’t say I didn’t tell you so later!” It was a lie, of course. She did care. More than she would ever like to admit. And the two brother’s were playing a dangerous game.

His eyes rested on her for another moment, before turning to the door and leaving without another word. His steps echoed through the house as he walked downstairs, meeting Robb in the hallway.

Melisandre remained seated, blankly staring at the wall in front of her. When had it began to be like this between them? It seemed as if they were caught in a vicious circle, always fighting about the same issues but never resolving them. Would it ever end? Or stay like this forever?

 

-

 

The throne room was vast and empty apart for two people when Robb and Jon entered, Cersei Lannister sitting on her throne like the queen she was. She was clothed in a dress of deep Lannister red, rubies sewed all over it. The skirt of it was so long it covered the entirety of the stairs leading up to her, the gleaming of the gemstones matching those embedded in her crown. Her golden hair flew along her shoulders like liquid gold, making her appear like the lioness which was her sigil. Beside her stood Jaime Lannister, wearing his sister’s colors in armor.

Some said, the queen listened to no one but her brother. Jon wondered if that was true. It appeared to be, since Jaime was the one standing beside her, not the hand of the queen, Tywin Lannister.

“Your grace”, Robb greeted, stopping a few paces away from the throne. He was speaking in cool courtesy, never letting his face tell what he was thinking.

Although that was clear, at least to Jon. _This woman had murdered their father_. And now their life depended on her favor.

“I have expected to meet with Lord Tywin”, his brother now continued, looking around him. They had agreed that it was better if they didn’t gave the fact away that they knew about the hand’s absence. “Where is he?”

Cersei’s smile never faded. For no more than the glimpse of a second, she exchanged a look with her brother. “He has business to attend. You will be speaking to me.” Her red eyes rested on Jon for a moment. “I’ve met you’re wife, haven’t I? Wild little thing. Reminds me of your first fiance.”

The words were well chosen, indeed. Jon gave his best to control his face, not wanting to give anything away. But inside, he was furious. More importantly, how did she even know? Had her Lord Varys spies in his family too?

Robb was taking the word again, quick to change subject. “We are here bring proposal of an alliance”, he began. “Strengthened through marriage.”

Cersei rose an eyebrow. “Interesting. And who do you wish to marry?”

“Our younger brother Bran. He would be a good match for your daughter.” Robb looked over to Jon for reassuring for a moment, before his eyes traveled back to Cersei.

The Queen exchanged a long look with Jaime, as if she could read the answer for Robb’s question from his eyes. Perhaps she could, as long as the silence lasted. Finally, Cersei turned back to them. “Myrcella is my only daughter. Why would I give her to a Stark?”

Robb was taking a deep breath. “Because in return we’ll join our forces with yours and help you to beat Stannis.”

Again, Cersei’s eyes went to Jaime, but shorter this time. “Myrcella is promised to another”, she replied then. She was smiling, but it never reached her eyes. No more than a cold facade. “But I have a son as well.”

 _Joffrey Baratheon,_ Jon thought instantly. The boy had been promised to Margaery Tyrell once, but that was off the table most likely. His sister Sansa had spoken about him quite a few times, always stressing how handsome he was and how every girl at their college had a crush on him. She would like that marriage, most probably.

“Your sister Sansa goes to the same school, if I recall correctly”, Cersei continued, waiting for Robb to react.

Eventually, he nodded. “She does”, he agreed. “The match would be excellent.”

The Queen nodded. “It is settled, then. The Stark-Lannister alliance your father and my husband always wanted.”

Hearing her speak of Eddard Stark was enough to spark Jon’s anger once more, but he knew well enough how important this agreement from Cersei’s side was. They needed the Lannister’s to back them up. This alliance was vital for their survival.

“Then I suppose it is time to kneel before your Queen”, Cersei added, leaning back in her throne and raising her eyebrows in expectation.

Robb looked over to him for a moment, before nodding and kneeling in front of the throne. Jon followed the example, although it felt as wrong as nothing he had ever done before. Perhaps Melisandre had been right all along. Perhaps this had been the greatest mistake they possibly could have made.

Cersei smiled down at them for a few seconds, before telling them to rise and giving the okay to leave. “We will speak about the marriage date when my father returns.”

“Of course”, Robb answered, hesitating another second, but then turning around and taking his leave. Jon followed him down the throne room, back to the great door where they had came from.

His brother looked troubled, almost regretful. “Do you think Sansa will be fine with it?” he asked quietly, when they closed the doors behind them and made their way out of the castle. “Mother has only spoken to her shortly yesterday and then we didn’t know the alliance was going to go this way.”

Jon nodded in response. “She will be. She likes Joffrey!”

“Yeah”, Robb muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Only I don’t.”

Jon sighed. “She will be fine, I’m sure of it.” He made a short pause. “Do you want me to call and tell her?” he added.

But his brother declined. “No, I’ll do it. Right when we’re home. She needs to come back from college so we can speak about it properly.”

 

A few doors away from them, still in the throne room, Cersei Lannister was getting up from her throne. She took Jaime’s hand while walking down the stairs, holding the long skirt with the other.

“You didn’t tell them about father. And the army he is building in Lannisport”, Jaime noticed, following his sister downstairs.

Cersei turned around to him, smiling. How little he knew of war and politics. He had always been the soldier. “With the help of the Starks, I’ll destroy Stannis. With father’s army, I’ll destroy the Starks.” She rested a hand on his chest, fingers stroking over the cold metal of the armor. The lion of their house was screaming from his breastplate. “Everyone who isn’t us is an enemy. And we’ll destroy every one of them.”

 

-

 

The sound of a car engine roaring in front of the house was sending a shudder of relief down Melisandre’s back, as she listened to two doors opening and closing and two people walking back to the mansion. They had not got themselves killed yet, that was an improvement. Perhaps the Stark’s were harder to kill than she had thought, afterwards. Besides it probably meant that Cersei Lannister had accepted, which also was not too bad. She still wasn’t in favor of it, but it was better than nothing. Although an alliance with Stannis would have been less risky. _And she didn’t say that because of their history._ How could Jon even think that? Why did he always need to bring the topic up in the first place?

He was coming upstairs now, while Robb was walking into the kitchen. Actually, she wished Jon would be staying downstairs too. She wasn’t too keen on fighting right now, she felt much too tired for that.

But when he opened the door and entered the room, she forgot about all that for a moment. She was too relieved to see him, alive. And not murdered by Cersei Lannister. Her first impulse had been to run over and hug him, but she restrained herself. She was not going to give in _that_ easily. So she only slowly stood up from the bed, watching him close the door. “So she accepted?”

Jon nodded slowly, glancing at her for no more than a second. “She did”, he replied, getting out of his jacket. “In return for a marriage of her son with Sansa.”

She had never met Sansa, but Robb and Jon had talked about her sometimes, and she sounded like a sweet girl. One could only hope this would be good for her.

“We’re going to join forces soon”, Jon went on, throwing his jacket onto one of his chairs. “And then we will be able to defeat Stannis.” He was stressing the last part of the sentence, only slightly and barely striking, but still there.

She knew exactly why he was telling her this, simply because he wanted to check her reaction. It was pathetic, really. “Good”, she only replied, crossing her arms in a defensive position.

Jon’s eyes seemed to cut through her skin, as if he was able to look inside her head. “Is it?” he wanted to know, stepping a little closer. “Just this morning you wanted to make peace with him.” His tone was accusing now, as so often lately when he was talking to her.

 _Was there even one thing she was able to do right in his eyes?_ “He didn’t cut your father’s head off”, she snapped back, a lot more harsh than she had intended. She hadn’t meant to get angry, but he always managed to drive her furious.

Jon shook his head. “No, he only attacked us here and attempted to murder us all!”

Melisandre didn’t really know what to reply to that, so she remained silent. Unfortunately, he had a point. _Why was she even defending Stannis?_ She would gladly murder him herself if she could. _Or would she?_ He had not killed her, after all, twice. Perhaps she had to give him a little credit for that.

“No more excuses for your friend?” Jon asked, voice full of bitterness.

Why did he always have to overreact so terribly? “He’s not my friend”, she replied simply, trying to stay calm. There was no point in getting even more angry. It wasn’t leading anywhere, no matter how long the discussion got. “So can we please stop talking about him all the time?” She gave Jon a pleading look, hoping that he would once, only once, listen to her.

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Jon’s eyes were fixed on hers, not wanting to let go. And then, suddenly, without any warning, he stepped forward and closed the distance between them, meeting her lips with his.

At first she was too surprised to properly react, just opening her mouth under his and playing with his tongue for a few seconds, before her senses returned and she managed to pull back. “Okay this is not exactly what I meant”, she began, but he interrupted her by kissing her again, reaching for her hips and pulling her towards him.

This time, she didn’t manage to break it off, not that she wanted to, but only wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair. He smelled like home, the home she never got to have. Or at least, didn’t remember.

His fingers traveled up her back to the zipper of her dress, slowly opening it and letting the fabric fall to the floor. Her own hands stripped him of his top, so that she could press her body against his bare skin.

Actually, she had sworn herself not to do this anymore, not to solve arguments this way, but in this moment she couldn’t care less. And Jon didn’t either, obviously, so how bad could it be? The only thing that mattered was that they were happy, wasn’t it? And to be honest, she couldn’t be happier than in this very moment.


	31. Ours is the fury

Melisandre rolled onto her back, the fabric of the bed hugging her body. She felt Jon’s warm skin against hers, the curls of his hair tickling her shoulder.

His heart was beating quickly and he was breathing heavily, turning his head to meet her eyes. Carefully, he reached out for her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said some of the things.”

She simply shook her head, pressing a light kiss to his hand. “It’s forgotten.” Everything felt so much lighter now, as if the conversation before had not even happened. Or at least wasn’t important. What did it matter if they had fights, as long as they made up in the end?

Gently, he pulled her closer, so that her head was resting on his chest. She felt the soft beating of his heart under her fingertips as she ran them across his skin. “I love you”, she whispered, the words coming easily across her lips. It was nothing but the truth.

He kissed her, lips brushing against hers. “I love _you_ ”, he breathed, tongue flicking into her mouth and turning her around so she was below him. His fingers ran through her hair, creating patterns on the sheets.

She felt herself melting into his arms, hands traveling over the skin of his neck down to his back. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up. On the other hand, she couldn’t dream anymore, so this was likely to be real. Even better, then. She wished that the moment would never end.

It did, however, much too early, when the door was suddenly opened and Robb entered the room, abruptly freezing as soon as he noticed the two of them. “Oh, I am interrupting something”, he noticed, not able to hide the grin. “Sorry.”

Jon rolled away from her, quickly sitting up and running a hand through his hair. He was blushing terribly and she could hear how his heartbeat was racing with embarrassment.

Melisandre only giggled slightly, pulling the sheets up so they would cover her body. “You ruined the moment”, she commented, biting her lip so she wouldn’t start laughing.

Jon shot her an angry look. “What do you want?” he muttered, eyes searching for his clothes on the floor.

His brother took a step back, already reaching for the door handle. “If you are dressed again, perhaps you can come down and help me search for Theon, since he seems to have gotten lost somewhere tonight.”

“Have you tried calling?” Jon grumbled, still playing with his hair. He always did that when he was nervous, she had noticed that.

Robb rolled his eyes at the words. “I’m not stupid, of course I have tried to call him!” He grinned one last time, before stepping back into the hallway and closing the door. “I’ll see you downstairs!”

“Idiot”, Jon muttered when the door fell shut, looking over to Melisandre as she began to laugh. “My brother walking in on us is not funny!”

His concern only caused her to enjoy the whole situation even more. “Why not?” she replied, reaching out for his hand and pulling his body closer again. “I thought it was very funny.”

“I should get used to locking the door.” He leaned down to kiss her for a moment, but withdrew much too quickly and moved backwards to the edge of the bed.

Melisandre rolled onto her stomach, watching him get up and begin to get dressed. “What are you doing?” she wanted to know, fingers playing with the bed sheets. “He didn’t say you need to be downstairs immediately!” The fabric was ripped where her nails had dug into it. They would have to buy some new ones. Which wasn’t a bad thing, though, the white sheets were too boring for her taste, anyway. One needed to bring some color into this bedroom.

“I’ll be back as soon as we found Theon. I’m sure he just passed out drunk somewhere”, Jon replied, picking his shirt up from the floor and slipping back into it.

Melisandre was almost disappointed when she didn’t get to enjoy the view of his abs anymore. She was also disappointed that he was already leaving. “You’ll hurry, right?” she made sure, looking over to the window where the blinds were already shut. Morning had already arrived, meaning she was stuck in this room until the sun had set.

“Of course”, he nodded, their eyes meeting for a moment. “It won’t take long.”

She smiled. “Okay.” She watched him walk over to the door and leave the room, turning around one last time to return the smile before disappearing. His steps echoed from the walls as he walked downstairs.

She rested her head on her hands, staring at the blank wall in front of her. Without any proper reason, she was smiling. Perhaps she was just happy that Jon and her had finally stopped fighting, even if it was just for a short while. They still had not dealt with the Stannis argument properly, but who needed that? It would just bring more conflict. Maybe it was better if they just forgot about it. It didn’t matter, anyway. What could Stannis do to them?

 

-

 

“Your grace.” Davos entered the library, bowing slightly in Stannis’ direction, more as a formality since the king did not even look at him. His eyes were fixed on a book, never moving away. Davos’ entrance didn’t seem to bother him much. Therefore, he continued speaking. “I did what you asked. We have the boy.”

Only slightly, Stannis nodded. “Good”, he replied.

A silence followed. Davos stood next to the door, watching Stannis flip the page and continue reading. He was not sure if he had the permission to leave, and also he had other things to say. Important things. “Sire”, he eventually tried again, hoping to grasp the king’s attention this time.

Finally, Stannis looked up. “Damn it, Davos, what’s so important? You have the boy, great, now continue with the rest of the plan. Why still stand here like an idiot?”

“Forgive me, your grace.” He was not sure how to begin. “You are aware that the Starks will never agree, right? That your plan will fail?”

Stannis sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. His hands rested on the table. “The plan was never for them to agree. The plan was always for them to come here and try to claim what is theirs.”

Davos’ eyebrows arched up in surprise. It made sense, of course. It was a trap. “And you think they will be so stupid and come here on their own? Why not bring Cersei Lannister and her entire force?”

The king laughed bitterly. It was the only laugh Stannis knew. “Because if they run to Cersei Lannister and tell her that I abducted one of their friends who is not even a Stark, she will do nothing but laugh at their faces. She won’t lift a finger. So they are on their own.”

Slowly, Davos nodded. The plan was not bad, as long as the Starks went for it. “And what about Melisandre?” Her name did not go easy across his lips, too strong the guilt when he thought about that night all those moons back. He could still hear the scream.

But Stannis only clenched his fists and jaw, red eyes sparkling. “If she comes with them, she will not be spared.”

It was better like that, Davos knew. After all, he had been the one to talk Stannis out of his sentiments towards her. Still, he felt a little sorry for the girl. He was at least partly responsible for what had happened to her. And she didn’t even know. She didn’t know anything, Stannis had seen to that. _It had been so wrong._ But necessary, he reminded himself. Necessary above all. And Davos had only done his duty to his king.

“Anything else?” Stannis asked now, still looking more tensed than usual. “Send the note to the Starks tonight. I want it delivered as soon as possible.”

Quickly, Davos nodded. “At once, your grace. I’ve already given the order.” He watched Stannis eyes return to the book, so he turned around and left the room, walking down the long hallway to make his way down to the basement. Stannis had made it clear that the matter was urgent, so he quickly needed to find someone to deliver the message. Actually, he had not liked the whole plan at first, but now he slowly understood why things had been done. It made sense, after all.

Still, Melisandre was worrying him. He had seen her fighting, Stannis had trained her himself, and she was good. Besides, Stannis definitely had a soft spot for her. Davos had seen the look in his eyes when he had retreated from the Stark mansion. _The King who ran,_ some people called him since then. That would not happen a second time, Stannis would make sure of that. But what if that girl got in the way? Davos wouldn’t let that happen, he had promised himself. She would not be allowed to cause anymore trouble than she already had. Stannis would take his throne, he had to, and he would not fail because of some girl they had needed for some part of their plan which had backfired entirely.

The whole marriage to the Stark thing had gone terribly wrong, he had to admit that. His idea had not developed the way he had hoped it would. He had trusted Melisandre to be more loyal.

Suddenly, the worry was back. What if she had gained back some parts of her memory? If that was the reason for her break with Stannis? Because she knew what he had done?

Honestly, this was just one more reason to finally get rid of her. She was too much of a thread, with or without memories. Hopefully, Stannis had realized that as well. Because the last thing they needed was for Melisandre to discover what had really let to her amnesia.

 

-

 

It was quarter past 8pm when Melisandre made her way downstairs, impatiently having awaited the setting of the sun. Jon had not returned since he had left that morning, but instead had heated discussions with Robb and Jeyne in the living room. They had spoken too quickly for her to grasp the words and their meaning properly, but something was definitely wrong.

When she opened the doors to the room and entered, she was greeted only by silence. Robb was sitting at the head of the table, face buried in his hands. Jeyne sat to his right, staring at the table, but looking up when Melisandre entered. A small smile crept upon her lips as a greeting, but she never said a word.

Jon was standing close to the door, turning towards her when she came in. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, a deep frown upon his face. “Hey”, he muttered in her direction, never moving.

Melisandre’s eyes traveled over the three of them and finally noticed a piece of paper in front of Robb on the table. Something was written on it in red ink, most likely blood. Only a vampire would do that, and she was guessing Stannis was the most likely candidate.

Eventually, she decided to ask about it. “So, what happened?” she wanted to know, eyes piercing through Jon next to her. “Will somebody be so nice to fill me in?”   
To her surprise, Jeyne was the one to answer. “Stannis has Theon.” She took a deep breath. “He sent us a message about an hour ago.”

Melisandre had expected everything, but not this. “ _Theon_?” she repeated, only to be sure she had not gone deaf. “What does he want with him?”

“Blackmail us”, Jon replied, very quietly. His features seemed frozen, she was not able to read an expression from it. “He said he will release him in exchange for me.”

For a moment, she felt like laughing. Everything just seemed to ridiculous. “I’m hoping you don’t consider agreeing.” She studied Jon’s face for another moment. As well as she knew the Starks by now, it was entirely possible they would be foolish enough to agree.

“Of course we will not agree”, Robb interrupted now, getting up from his chair and crushing the paper in his hand. “But we also can’t let Theon die!”

Melisandre closed her eyes for a second. She knew exactly what he was going to say next.

“Which is why we’ll go to Stannis’ house tonight and free him”, Robb added, throwing the broken paper to the floor.

Sometimes Melisandre wondered if she was the only person in the house who was thinking straight. “This is a trap”, she began, looking from Robb to Jon. “If we go there, we never get out alive.”

Robb, however, seemed to have already decided. “Of course it’s a trap”, he replied, shaking his head. “But we will not abandon Theon. He’s like a brother!”

“This is exactly what Stannis wants”, she tried again, but this time it was Jon who interrupted.

“We won’t take any men, it’s only going to be us, they won’t even notice we are there!”

Melisandre shook her head. _Were they really so stupid?_ “They will hear your heartbeat minutes before you’re even close to the gates”, she argued. _Had they forgotten it was Vampires who they were dealing with?_ “We will not even get to the door alive!”

Jon clenched his jaw at the words, eyes escaping hers. “You don’t need to come if you don’t want to.”

 _Wow, really?_ “Of course I need to come”, she snapped, feeling much more hurt than she should have. Did he still think she would abandon them? They were her family too, now. Which was why she needed to protect them. “I might have an idea how we get at least inside the building without getting killed.”

“How?” Robb replied eagerly, obviously clinging to every hope which could lead to saving Theon.

She bit her lip. “I might be able to sneak into the building and open the gates and door as a distraction while you enter some other way.” It was risky, of course, but should be possible. At the very least it was less dangerous than just trying to enter, which was little more than a suicide mission.

Robb nodded at the words, exchanging a quick look with Jeyne, who was still seated. “It’s not a bad plan. Might work.”

“Or it might go all wrong and Stannis has you killed”, Jon interrupted, worry now all over his face.

She looked over to him for a moment, eyes meeting his. “If we don’t do it this way, we all get killed anyway. So what does it matter?”

There was a long moment of silence, no one seemed to know what to say next. They were playing exactly into Stannis’ cards, there was no doubt he had planned the whole thing just like this. All he wanted was to lure the Starks to his mansion, and they were doing just that. He had hit just the right nerve: their loyalty towards family. And Theon was family to Robb and Jon.

Eventually, Jeyne got up from her chair as well. “So, it’s going to be the four of us?” She smiled proudly. “I learned how to fight!”

Melisandre couldn’t stop her own smile. “Did Robb finally teach you?” She looked over to him, watching him frown uncomfortably.

“I wish I had not”, he muttered, running a hand over his face. “I wish you would stay here with mother.”

Jeyne shook her head, one hand on her hip. “I’m not staying here!” she insisted. “I can handle myself!”

“You heard her”, Melisandre shrugged, still smiling. “She’s coming with us!” She looked over her shoulder to Jon, who still looked deeply worried. Sighing, she approached him, stopping a few paces away from him. “If you’re stupid enough to run into Stannis’ trap, I’m coming with you.”

He nodded. “I figured you would.” Slowly, he reached out for her hand, gently pulling her towards him. “I don’t like the idea of you going in alone.” Carefully, he tucked a loose curl behind her ear. His fingers touched her face lightly, causing her to shiver.

“Well, unless you know another vampire, I’ll have to go alone”, she answered, giving her best to make the situation less tense.

Jon, however, only managed to look even more unhappy. “I can’t lose you”, he said quietly, so his brother and Jeyne wouldn’t hear.

She smiled in response, feeling her heart tighten inside her chest. “You won’t”, she promised, although being well aware that she might not be able to keep that promise. But it was easier than letting the doubts win.

 


	32. Glory and Gore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a humming in the restless summer air  
> And we're slipping off the course that we prepared  
> But in all chaos, there is calculation  
> Dropping glasses just to hear them break

The sun had just set when they left, leaving the Stark mansion behind and making their way towards Dragonstone. It had gotten more cold than usual at this time of the year, with the temperature almost below zero and a thin layer of ice covering the ground. Dark clouds were hiding the stars, cool winds blowing from the north. It was a new moon.

They reached Dragonstone in total silence, stopping a few paces away from the gates to wait if something would happen. Nothing, of course, even though Stannis had most likely noticed them already. Melisandre heard Jon’s heartbeat racing in her ears, so loud Stannis wouldn’t even be able to miss it. They were all running into their deaths.

“Do you hear Theon inside?” Robb wanted to know, voice as low and quiet as possible. To her ears, it was almost like a scream.

For second she closed her eyes, listening into the building. He would be kept in the basement, hidden behind layers and layers of black stone. They would chain him to a wall, the chains would scratch against the floor. But there was nothing. The mansion was silent. Not even a heartbeat was audible. Slowly, she shook her head, forming a no with her lips.

Robb’s eyes widened with worry. “Is he still alive?” He was speaking too loudly.

Melisandre exchanged a quick look with Jon. “Maybe he is not inside”, she whispered, eyes never leaving the mansion. All windows were dark, not even the shadow of a candle visible. The Starks would be blind inside.

“I’m going in now”, Robb argued, again too loudly.

Jeyne reached for his arm, pulling him backwards slightly. She was shaking her head. “We’ve talked about this”, she muttered, looking over to Melisandre. “We wait.”

Melisandre nodded, biting her lip. Stannis knew her. He would know she would try to enter through the basement, like she always did. But what other way was there? Her eyes traveled over the building, stopping at the roof. She would have to try. Quickly, she turned around to Jon.

Their eyes met for a moment, but neither of them said anything. They didn’t have to.

In complete silence, she made her way around the mansion, reaching the back of it where some trees covered the fence. She climbed it with ease, hiding in the cover of the branches and leaves. Inside nothing was moving, still nothing was to be heard. It seemed as if absolutely no one was moving. Carefully she made her way up the tree, climbing onto the roof and towards one of the windows. It wasn’t the best way to get inside, since she then needed to get to the ground floor to disable the security system. Still, it was better than being caught.

She listened into the silence for another moment. Even on the roof, she could hear Robb and Jon talking. _They would get them all killed_. Quietly, she opened the window and slipped inside, hoping that Stannis wouldn’t have been smart enough to send some of his man up to the attic.

He hadn’t been, fortunately, since the room was utterly empty. More quick now, she hushed down the small staircase which was leading to the second floor, always listening in to the sounds of the mansion. Nothing, still. The second floor seemed empty, too, or at least the hallway was. It was slowly starting to make her uncomfortable. Where was everyone? She walked down another staircase, never making a sound. She even checked some of the first floor rooms, they were all empty. Was this some kind of trap?

On the ground floor, steps were audible. _Finally._ She looked down the staircase, noticing a single man standing next to its end. He didn’t move when she made a few steps downstairs and she was hoping the wood of the stairs wouldn’t make any sound.

When he eventually noticed her, it was already too late. She cut his throat from behind, without him ever making a sound. His lifeless body sank down, the wooden floor stained with blood.

She hurried down the hallway, hoping that no one would notice the body until she had reached the security room. Unfortunately, she did not have enough luck for that. Because in front of that room, someone familiar was waiting for her.

“What are you doing here?” Jate asked, keeping his voice low. He did look surprised to see her, though, so maybe she had not been blown after all. “I thought you were still outside.”

She smiled. “Well, as you can see I am not. And now please step aside before I have to make you.” She was totally calm, but she meant what she had said. Nothing would stop her from killing him if she had to.

Jate sighed. “And why would I do that? Stannis would have me killed!”

“Don’t you always claim you could take him?” Melisandre made a few steps forward, waiting for his reaction.

But he simply shrugged. “I’m not too keen on finding out, actually.” For a few seconds, he seemed to consider his options. “I’ll walk away, only this time. I just claim you’ve beaten me up and I sadly couldn’t stop you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Which also means I gotta go to Stannis now and tell him you’re here unless I want to be killed. So you need to be quick.”

Her being quick was not a problem, she was just worried about the Starks. But it was the best shot they had. “Where is Theon?” she asked, the question just suddenly appearing in her head.

“Basement”, Jate replied, stepping away from the door.

She smiled a little. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me someday, you know that.” He vanished into the dark of the hallway, leaving her in silence.

Melisandre hurried into the room, closing the door behind her and trying to calm her mind for a moment. She needed to get into that basement. And she needed to be quick, unless she wanted everyone to die tonight. _Amazing._

Disabling the security system was easier than expected, since it was not even password protected. Opening the gate and front door was done with a simple press of a button, immediately she could hear the tumult inside the mansion, as the Starks made their way along the fence to enter somewhere more quiet. Some shots were fired blindly into the dark, but no one seemed hit. There was hope, for now.

The door down to the basement was not locked, but she had to beat up two of Stannis’ men in order to get to it. Which was not a problem, honestly. She had never liked anyone of those guys, anyway. And they should have known better than to get into her way.

The basement was dark and even colder than the outside. The floor was partly frozen, the walls shimmered in coldly and not even one of the candles had been lit. It was pitch black.

Suddenly, something was pressed to the back of her head. It was the end of a gun, of course. Not much a surprise. The person who held it was even less of a surprise.

“Davos Seaworth”, Melisandre mused, without even turning around. “I was hoping to meet you!” _So I can kill you._

He pressure of the gun intensified. “Likewise”, he muttered, pushing her forward so she had to walk a few steps.

Perhaps he was indeed stupid enough to lead her to Theon Greyjoy. In that case, killing him could wait a few minutes. Even though she knew the basement, she wouldn’t have been sure where to look for him. “Are you alone?” she wanted to know, still walking slowly forward. The hallway in front of her seemed to stretch endlessly, nothing but black air. Still, she was wondering where all the other men where. Upstairs?

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to meet you here alone?” Davos replied roughly, grabbing her wrist and pushing her into one of the sideways.

 _So someone else was here somewhere. Good._ He shouldn’t have told her that, but he had never been the most clever men. Now she knew what she was up against.

The walk seemed to go on for an eternity. The stone was so thick that she couldn’t even hear anything from the fighting upstairs, she had no idea what was going on. It was driving her crazy. She didn’t even know where Stannis was. Why had he sent Davos to meet her here, since he obviously knew she was going to come?

“Don’t move”, Davos ordered, gun now pressed to her throat, when they eventually stopped in front of a wooden door.

She only smiled at him, watching as he unlocked it and pulled it open.

The room behind it was lit by nothing but a sparse candle, sending shadows dancing across the walls. Immediately, the smell of blood filled her nose. Fresh blood. Slowly, she stepped inside, still feeling the cool metal of the gun against her skin. Not that she cared much. The walls of the cell were of the same pitch black stones as the hallways, only that here the floor was covered in blood spatters. A body was chained in one of the corners, but it seemed lifeless and the head was bowed in an unnatural position. There was so much blood. The candlelight made it glow like rubies.

Melisandre had to swallow hard. “You didn’t have to kill him”, she said quietly. It was the truth. They didn’t have to. Theon had done nothing wrong, only ever been loyal to the Starks. He didn’t deserve to die like this. “Robb is going to tear you apart”, she whispered, and it sounded like a vision.

“Let him try”, Davos answered coldly. “On your knees”, he added, gun pressing against her throat more urgently. “Now.”

Her eyes were still glued to Theon’s corpse. “I don’t think so”, she said slowly.

For a second, nothing happened. Davos’ finger moved to the trigger.

But when the shot went off, it was too late. It hit the ceiling as Melisandre kicked the gun out of his hands. It landed next to the door, too far away to reach.

He attempted to catch her, but she was too quick. Before he was able to react, she pushed him against the wall, face crushing against the stone. He growled as she buried her knife between his rips, slowly twisting it around.

“I knew it was a mistake to turn you!” Davos spitted, wailing every time the blade cut deeper into his flesh. “I’ve told Stannis that night-”

The last words made her listen up. “Which night?” she wanted to know, pushing the knife forward. “Which night?” she repeated.

But Davos was done talking, only shaking his head.

 _Alright._ He had made her truly angry now. She quickly pulled the blade out, pushing him forward onto the ground. He was coughing blood, the smell of it filling the air. It was almost sweet. She placed one foot on his back, the tip of her heel slowly pushing into his skin. “Tell me what I want to know.”

A scream escaped him, as the heel went deeper into his flesh. “That night Stannis turned you”, he coughed, blood running down his chin. “In that alley. It was a new moon. I was with him!” He sounded desperate.

Suddenly, the pieces began to fall together. _The alley she had seen, the one she had went to._ Stannis had turned her right there. She just couldn’t remember. “What happened to my memories?” she asked, stepping back from Davos and kicking him just so that he would have to turn onto his back. She knelt down next to him. “I’d advice you to answer me.”   
His red eyes glowed in the dim light. “I am only the distraction.”

Somehow, those words sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t tell why, but suddenly she had a horrible feeling about all of this. It was too easy. He was not even fighting back. And why had no one come after the scream? “Distraction for what?” she asked, voice suddenly hollow. _Was she so easy to play?_

Davos laughed, but it ended up being more of a weak coughing. “This was never about you.”

She had heard enough. Without saying anything else, she left Davos behind and hurried out of the room, back into the darkness of the hallways. _She had to find Jon._ All of this had taken her too long. What if she was too late by now? What if Stannis had already gotten to him? Then it was her fault. They couldn’t even save Theon.

She met no one else on the way back upstairs, which had her thinking that Davos had probably lied to her earlier on. All of this had been a trap, and they had ran directly into it.

As she reached the door leading to the ground floor, she stopped for a moment to listen to the fighting. Three heartbeats. Good. No one seemed to be close to the door, but she couldn’t be sure, so she held back for another moment.

Suddenly, she heard a much too familiar voice. Stannis. Even above the noise of the fight, it was loud and clear. He must be close. “Here we are again”, he said, sounding as if he was really proud of himself. But who was he talking to? She couldn’t quite grasp where he was, or where the Starks where, it was too much chaos.

“This time you’re wife is not here to save you”, Stannis added and Melisandre knew exactly who he was talking too. _Oh please no._ She closed her eyes for a second, trying to calm her mind. Jon’s heartbeat was slow and regular, he seemed to be fine. For now, at least, but if Stannis continued it might not last very long.

What was she supposed to do? She certainly couldn’t just stay hidden. Everything was better than letting Jon die. _Everything._

She pushed the door open quickly, slipping into the hallway and looking left and right. Most of the others appeared to be in the living room, but one distant heartbeat came from the library. It had always been Stannis’ go-to place, why change that when it came to murder. He was so predictable sometimes. She hurried over to the room, stopping next to the door frame and slowly trying to get a look inside.

Jon had his back to the door, Stannis was leaned against his table, a book still open on the table. In his hands was a gun, pointed at Jon. His finger was dancing over the trigger.

Melisandre had a weird feeling of  Déjà-vu as she watched the situation play out. They had been here before, only last time Stannis had held a sword. And last time, everything had turned out okay. Today she didn’t have such a positive feeling. 

Still, she had to do something. And just like the last time, she was stupid enough to let herself be guided by the sudden impulse to step between Jon and Stannis’ gun.

So there she stood, the gun now pointed at her. Clearly she had learned nothing.

Stannis’ eyes widened in surprise first, but then in anger. “Melisandre”, he noticed dryly, never lowering the weapon. “Where is Davos?”

She gave her best to smile confidently. “Dead”, she replied, only later thinking about the fact that this had probably not been the best possible answer. “ And he told me some interesting things about my past.  _The night in that alley_ .” She waited a few seconds. “Does that ring a bell?” 

Behind her, Jon stepped forward. “You don’t have to do this.”

_ Yes she did.  _ Her eyes never left Stannis. He didn’t seem to be willing to answer her, though. 

Instead, he asked a question of his own. “Have you found Theon Greyjoy?” He sounded almost amused.

Melisandre swallowed heavily. “You mean his corpse? Yes I did.”

Jon gasped in shock, attempting to move past her, but she stepped in the way. Quickly she turned around to him, reaching for his face. “Let me handle this, okay?” She was almost begging him.  _ Please let me save you. Please.  _

She would never forget the expression in his eyes, the sadness haunting her forever. Even in the afterlife. But when she faced Stannis again, she felt certainty. If this was how it was supposed to end, let it be it.

A few seconds passed in silence. It was the calm before the storm. The calculation before the chaos.

Then a single shot went off. And someone in the room dropped dead.

 


	33. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am become death,   
> destroyer of worlds.

Time had stopped, the world ended. There was no movement, everything and everyone seemed frozen. Seconds passed like an eternity, a numbness filling him which he couldn’t quite grasp. For a few moments, he could not even tell if he had been hit. Had the shot went off but missed? Had it been no more than a warning, a taste of what to come?

But then he saw the blood. Scarlet liquor gleaming in the candlelight. Melisandre stumbled backwards. He didn’t even know what was happening until he was catching her body, letting her sink down to the floor. _There was so much blood._ Where did all the blood come from? It matched her hair in a strangely beautiful way, standing off from the pale skin which looked even paler now.

It took him another moment just looking at her, the way her eyelashes curled up when her eyes were closed, something he hadn’t ever noticed before, the way the shade of her lipstick matched the copper of her curls. _And the blood._

Suddenly, someone was next to him. It was Robb, probably, in that moment he couldn’t really tell. Everything just went blurry, running together into chaos in front of his eyes. He could hardly breathe anymore.

“What happened?” his brother’s voice was to be heard, but as distant and quiet as if he was whispering. “Jon, look at me!”

He heard the words, but couldn’t react. _She couldn’t be dead._ It wasn’t possible, was it? One bullet couldn’t have the power to… it couldn’t be so simple.

“Jon!” Robb tried again, more urgent this time. He was shaking his brother now. “We need to get out of here!”

Of course they did. Of course. Stannis was still here somewhere. Somehow, Jon’s logical thinking seemed to return. His vision got more clear again, he felt the racing beat of his heart inside his chest. The numbness vanished, slowly. He took a deep breath. “I need to save her.” His voice was shaking terribly.

Robb nodded, very slowly. “We need to leave. You can’t save her here.” He was speaking carefully, as if he was afraid one wrong word might cause Jon to collapse back into his trance. “Now”, he added.

Jon looked at her for another moment, eyes unable to leave. He wouldn’t just let her die. _It was his fault._ He should be lying in that spot, not her. Why had she interfered, anyway? He felt tears burning in his eyes. _This couldn’t be the way it ended._

He picked her up into his arms, carrying her over to the window where Robb had smashed the glass so they could get outside. Jeyne was waiting there, clothes spattered with blood and eyes filled with tears.

The cold air of the night was dancing across his skin, leaves moved slowly and trees rasped quietly. It was so peaceful. The sound of battle had died entirely. The clouds had vanished and the stars appeared, sparkling through the darkness of the night. The moon was gone. It was new moon. The first day of a new lunar cycle. And the beginning of something entirely different.

 

-

 

The electric light of the kitchen burned in Jon’s eyes, being way to bright after the darkness outside. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but _her._

He let Melisandre down on the kitchen table, but caring about the blood or the stains. Jon’s heart was still racing, he felt like passing out any second. It was just too much. “We need to do something!” He was almost yelling.

Robb was standing next to the door, running a hand through his hair. He was trembling. “I don’t know if-” he began, but was interrupted by Jon.

“I will not let her die”, he argued, voice shaking so heavily it was hard to understand the words. Panic was running through his veins. _She wouldn’t die. She couldn’t._ Suddenly, he remembered what she had once told him. Blood would help. All she needed was blood. It would be fine. Too quickly for his brother to react, he opened one of the kitchen sideboards and reached for a knife, cutting a small line just above his wrist.

“What are you doing?” Robb protested, quickly taking a few steps forward.

The blood ran down Jon’s arms slowly, dripping against Melisandre’s lips for a few seconds. Nothing happened. She didn’t react. _Why wasn’t it working?_ “Maybe we need human blood”, he tried, not ready to give up so early. There had to be something he could do.

Carefully, Robb took the knife from him. The metal seemed red with the blood smeared on it. By now, it was even dripping on the floor. Scarlet stains everywhere.

“Perhaps you need to-” Robb took a deep breath. “Let her go.” His voice was growing more quiet with every word. “It’s too late.”

 _No. It couldn’t be._ “Human blood might work”, Jon tried once more, sounding desperate by now. Time was running up, they needed to hurry. If he left now, he might be back with enough human blood by twenty minutes. _There was no time._

But his brother held him back. “I know you want to save her, but-”

Jon interrupted. “I have to!” He was almost crying now. “It’s my fault!” His voice was breaking with the last words. His chest felt like it was ready to explode. Slowly, he took a deep breath, lungs swallowing up the air of the room. The smell of blood filled everything. For a moment, everything seemed to spin around him. _Why was there so much blood?_

“Jon!” Robb was reaching for his arms, pulling him back to reality. “Listen to me, I know this is hard but you need to be realistic, alright?” He was giving his best to sound like his father, even Jon noticed that in his current condition.

Suddenly, the memory of Eddard Stark sparked an idea inside his head. He remembered a story he had once told them, Robb and Theon and him. _Theon. He was dead too._ This night couldn’t result in more than one death. The three of them always used to get nightmares from that particular story, and Catelyn Stark had eventually forbid their father to speak of it. It had been about a couple, one vampire and one werewolf, raising an army of hybrid children to conquer the world. Lots of bloody details had followed, and in the end they had been defeated by the righteous werewolves, who their father had claimed were their ancestors.

This story somehow popped into his thoughts, and suddenly he had an idea what to do. One last, desperate attempt. “What if I bite her?”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds, before Robb reacted. “What?”

“I’ll bite her”, Jon repeated, slower this time. He was certain it was going to work. It had to. And why wouldn’t it?

His brother seemed more skeptical, though. “No one has ever turned a vampire into a hybrid”, he began, nervously playing with his hair. “And we don’t know what this will do to her, it might-”

“Kill her?” Jon interrupted. “If I do nothing, it will kill her all the same. I don’t have much time left!” He sounded pleading by now. He needed to hear that it was going to work, that he would save her.

Robb was silent for a few seconds, looking at Melisandre’s body on the table. He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Those hybrid children… they were wild, uncontrollable. People said they didn’t have any humanity left.” His eyes went back to his brother. “What if she wakes up, half vampire and half werewolf, and she’s nothing like the Melisandre you knew? What if she’s a monster?”

“I can’t lose her”, Jon only answered. It was as simple as that. He needed her, one form or another. He didn’t care what she was.

Robb shook his head. “If you love her, you _need_ to let her go.”

If only it were that easy. But it wasn’t. “I need to try.” He approached Melisandre, slowly tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears. He would save her, no matter how. They would figure it out, whatever happened then. She only needed to be alive.

“Alright”, Robb finally said. He seemed to have come to the conclusion that he couldn’t stop Jon, anyway. “But if she turns out to be dangerous-”

“She won’t”, Jon argued. Slowly he reached for one of her wrists. Actually he was not even sure what to do. Softly, he buried his teeth in her white skin, feeling the blood which was left in her body on his tongue. He repeated the same on her throat and other wrist, hoping that somehow it would work. _It had to. It was the last chance they had._

Afterwards he sat down on one of the kitchen stairs. He was very tired, out of a sudden.

“What now?” Robb eventually asked, still standing in the middle of the kitchen.

Jon took a deep breath. Somehow, he was feeling hopeful. “We wait”, he said quietly.

 

-

 

The sound echoed from the walls as Stannis threw a bag of blood onto the stone floor, only so far away that Davos could reach it. “Drink”, he commanded, watching with a frown on his face as Davos ripped the bag open and drank the red liquid as quickly as he never had before.

Immediately, he felt better. The wounds were healing. He was slowly able to sit up, wiping the excess blood away from his chin. “Thank you, sire”, he muttered, still coughing a little. It took him a little while until he was able to say anything else. “She knows”, he eventually said. “She knows about that night. Part of her memories came back.” He’d always known it would happen someday.

For a few seconds, the king’s face stayed blank. He didn’t say anything.

How couldn’t he care? They were about to be exposed, and as soon as Melisandre knew the truth, all hell would break loose. She was close to the truth already, Davos had seen it in her eyes. “Your grace, perhaps we should-” he wanted to continue, trying to talk some sense into the king, but Stannis interrupted.

“She’s dead.” He turned his face away, hiding in the shadow where the candlelight didn’t touch him.

 _Dead._ Could that be true? Davos watched Stannis for a few seconds. Had he done it himself, finally? Had all the talking, all the warning from Davos’ side finally played out? Killing Melisandre had not even been the plan tonight, the plan had been her husband. Stannis had been furious, talking about nothing else but how he wanted that boy dead.

“And the Stark boy?” Davos finally asked, carefully choosing each word.

The king clenched his jaw, slowly grinding his teeth. His eyes sparkled almost black. “Alive”, he growled quietly. “She was stupid enough to die saving him.”

If he was honest, Davos had not expected such an action from her, even though he had seen the fear on her face when she had realized she had been played. Stannis seemed everything but happy with how things had played out, it was hard to miss. Who he had wanted dead was the boy, not Melisandre. And he hated it when things didn’t go his way. Perhaps he had even had feelings for her, still. One couldn’t really tell with Stannis. He had a way of hiding his feelings, constantly.

“So Cersei is the enemy now”, Davos broke the long silence which had occurred, leaning against the wall to slowly get up from the floor. The blood had done its part in healing his wounds, but he was still feeling a little dizzy.

Stannis watched him with a frown. “Our spies say Tywin Lannister is still not back. I want an attack on the castle before he returns.” There was a short pause. “Robb Stark will return. We’ve killed two of his allies, he will convince Cersei to attack. This war is not ended until I sit on my rightful throne and that king in the north has returned to where he came from!”

Davos’ eyes traveled over to the Greyjoy boy. _You didn’t need to kill him,_ Melisandre’s voice echoed through his head. No, they didn’t. All he was was a bait to lure Robb Stark in. He could have lived.

Sometimes, all the things he did weighted heavily on Davos’ shoulders. He had thought that with Melisandre’s death, at least that night would disappear from his memories. But it didn’t. They shouldn’t have done what they did back then. But Stannis was a king, and when the king commanded you didn’t disobey. _What he could have changed his mind._ Stannis listened to Davos, even followed his advice most of the time. If he had said something, maybe the whole plan wouldn’t have been carried out in the first place. The girl could have lived, instead of being made into a monster which turned on them at the first possible opportunity.

Out of a sudden, Davos felt the strong urge to ask the question which had been at the tip of his tongue so many times, but which he had never dared to ask. “Do you ever regret anything?” he asked into the silence of the room.

Stannis took his time to answer. The candlelight made his cheeks look hollow, his features even more stern than usual. “I never asked for this”, he finally said. “No more than I asked to be king. We do not choose our destiny, but we must do our duty, don’t we? Great or small, we must do our duty.”

 _Then why not leave the throne to Cersei? End the spilling of blood?_ He never said it, of course. Stannis wouldn’t hear it. He was the rightful king, and he was convinced that this war was his destiny. Perhaps it was. Perhaps it had become Davos’ too, who could know for certain?

Stannis had already turned to the door. “Do your duty, Ser Davos, and call in my men. The throne isn’t waiting forever.” He pushed the door close behind him, the sound echoing through the basement. Then suddenly, only silence.

Davos stared into the darkness, for the first time wondering if his king’s course was truly as righteous as he claimed it to be.


	34. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I terrify you? I should.   
> I am a mirror in which you see all your dark desires,  
> your gnawing regrets, your deepest fears.   
> \- but the horror on my tongue tastes like honey to you.

It was dark. Not just dark, black to be precise. Usually at this time of the day, the moon would be present to illuminate the night sky, accompany the stars in spending some light. But today, it was a new moon and the sky was no more than sheer blackness.

In this part of town, the lamps on the streets were never working. The only source of light came from the few houses on one side of the road, even though most windows were shut with blinds or no one lived there in the first place. It was almost like a ghost town.

Click. Click. Click. The sound of heels on the pathway. Somewhere a car engine roared. A bird was crying. Then silence.

A figure appeared from the darkness, head bowed and eyes locked to the ground. Even in the darkness, the girls red hair seemed to be gleaming. She was slightly shaking in the cold of the night, wearing no more than a thin leather jacket.

Click. Click. Click. The sound filled the air as she walked past a black car parked on the opposite side of the street, raising her head for a moment and studying the vehicle.

The lights were off, so was the engine, and in the darkness it was impossible to tell if someone was inside. Still, something felt wrong.

She quickened her steps, suddenly hurrying. The alley was ending soon, but her car was parked at the end of the road. Why had she come here that late, anyway? It was an invitation to be attacked, or robbed, or whatever. Creepy guys were everywhere.

Behind her, the lights of the car went on. She didn’t dare to turn around. A door was opened, and closed. Someone had gotten off. Steps on the pathway, matching the speed of her own. By now, she was trembling.

A cold wind was rising, making the leaves of the surrounding trees rustle.

She could see the end of the alley now, where her car had been parked the other night. Why had she waited so long to come get it? She should have done it tomorrow.

For a second, she listened into the night. The car was now driving, the engine roaring lightly. Every now and then, steps were to be heard. She could not tell how close they were. Was the person even following her? Or where the steps leading away from her? There was no way to tell. She felt the panic rush through her blood.

The road ended with an old stone wall on her side, moose grown all over it. Her car was on the other side, parked where she had left it. Where had she put the keys? Into her handbag? Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure someone would hear it.

Suddenly the car was next to her, stopping in the middle of the road. The lights went off, and it was utterly dark. She stopped slowly, having reached the end of the alley. The black car was blocking her way over to her own car. She tried to look into the windows, but it was too dark.

Carefully, she looked behind her, down the street. It was empty. The next street light was meters away, the light only weakly blinking from time to time.

Next thing she recognized was a movement not far from her, something moving in the darkness. Then out of a sudden, a figure appeared in front of her. She took a quick step backwards, now pressed against the cool stone of the wall. A shiver was running down her back, as the figure slipped closer, almost gliding through the darkness.

A pair of burning red eyes appeared in front of her, nothing but staring at her for a few seconds. Her heartbeat was racing. She had heard the stories, of course, the stories about the city being haunted by werewolves and vampires and all those creatures. But did they really turn out to be true?

The next thing she felt was a sharp pain in her throat, and a scream cut through the night. She felt her legs go numb, her body sinking into the arms of the man whose teeth were buried into her skin. His skin was so cold it was almost hurting.

She struggled to keep her eyes open as he carried her over to the car, leaving a pattern of blood spatters on the pathway. There was not a single sound to be heard, nothing but silence. His steps seemed so light as if he wasn’t even touching the ground. She felt like having stumbled into a dream.

The inside of the car was all black leather, the scarlet drops of blood almost glowing. The engine roared and the car rolled down the street, as the two men began to chat lightly. She was not able to grasp the words, everything around her seemed deaf and numb as if she was slowly drifting away from this world. She could see the face of the man behind the wheel in one of the mirrors, his features stern and his hair and beard light gray. He seemed worried, as far as she could tell. Or perhaps it was her mind playing tricks.

The car ride seemed to last an eternity. Eventually they stopped, some place inside a forest. The trees were rustling quietly, some birds singing and the wind blowing. She felt herself being lifted from the car, the man from before carrying her away and deeper into the midst of the trees. It was even darker than in the alley in there, no light at all making its way past the leaves. Her eyes had almost fallen shut now, her throat was burning terribly and every bone of her body seemed to hurt. What was happening to her?

She forced herself to stay awake, eyes on the surrounding. Where was he taking her?

Out of a sudden he stopped and turned left, now approaching a house which was standing in the middle of the trees. The door was opened even before he knocked, and the face of the woman in the doorway was the last thing she was able to grasp before she drifted away into the darkness.

A pair of dark red eyes was opened, _and Melisandre remembered._

 

-

 

“Tell Robb Stark I want to see him _now”,_ Cersei hissed, the long skirt of her dress rasping over the floor with each step. She was furious, all hot temper and anger. This was the Cersei Jaime loved.

Still, anger was dangerous. Anger led to mistakes. And a mistake might make them lose the throne. “He’s in the hall already, waiting for you. Should I call him in?”

His sister turned around, golden hair dancing in the air. “ _Of course_ you should call him in!” Her red eyes glowed in the candle light, as she climbed the stairs to her throne and got seated. She looked like a real queen up there. _She was born for this._

J aime opened the doors and led the young wolf inside. He was barely a boy any more, looking all grown up. The war seemed to have made him age. Better for him, perhaps. And for his people. 

“Your grace”, Robb greeted politely, stopping a few paces away from the throne, bowing his head a little in respect. He seemed to have rehearsed that very well.

His sister, however, ignored the courtesies entirely. As usually, she came straight to the point. “You attacked Stannis without my permission”, she snapped, the air around her seeming to vibrate. Her eyes were scarlet flames. She looked as dangerous as the lioness which was her sigil.

The boy bit his lip. “There was no time”, he replied, with the voice of a king. He had confidence, no one could doubt that.

“You swore me an oath-”, Cersei began, but was interrupted. 

“I also swore to protect my people”, Robb argued, taking a step towards her. “Stannis Baratheon abducted my friend and now he is dead.” There was a moment of bitter silence. “Excuse me that there was no time to _consult you.”_

Cersei clenched her jaw, pressing her teeth together. Jaime could tell how close she was to ripping Robb Stark apart. But his family was important, they were the only advantage they had over Stannis at the moment. They could not risk losing them, not until Sansa Stark had married Joffrey and secured the alliance. “Is there anything else you are keeping from me?” Cersei’s voice sounded pressed, but a lot more calm than before.

For a second, the young wolf seemed to consider.  Perhaps a while too long. “No”, he finally answered. “We broke into Stannis’ mansion, trying to rescue Theon but we failed. So we escaped.” He wasn’t lying, but something didn’t quite sound right. 

Jaime took a step forward. “Was somebody hurt?” he wanted to know. It was hard to believe that the Starks would be able to survive such an attack without at least one loss.

Cersei seemed to sense her brother’s distrust, since her eyes found his for a second, as if she was saying  _what are you doing?_

Robb Stark shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Cersei snapped back. “Speak clearly, boy.”

His heartbeat quickened, as he took a long and deep breath. “My brother’s wife, Melisandre. She was hurt.” He was saying it in a way like the story was not quite finished, like there was more he meant to say, but never turned into words. Instead, silence.

Jaime exchanged a quick look with his sister. “Is she dead?” he wanted to know, more for personal information than because it was important. That little beast had been one hell of a fighter, not to speak of her on/off romance with Stannis. It was a dangerous dance she had been dancing, and eventually she had come to close to the fire.

Again, Robb took his time with the answer. “No”, he eventually said. “No, we could save her.”

He was lying, obviously. Or leaving something out at the very least. Cersei grew more and more impatient. “Did you know that you can determine if a person is lying while listening to his pulse?” she mused, smiling down at Robb Stark. “I want the truth, now. I don’t like being kept waiting.”

The boy was even more nervous by now, shifting slowly from side to side and shifting glances across the room. Finally, he answered. “She was dead when we got home, so my brother bit her.”

This time the silence was almost alarming. Cersei’s hands tightened around the edges of her throne, almost breaking the stone. Her expression was frozen. There was no sound to be heard.

_ A hybrid.  _ They must be crazy. Jaime’s eyes searched for his sister, but hers were glued onto Robb Stark. She showed no reaction. 

An eternity seemed to pass until Cersei finally answered. “Do you have any idea what you have done? What you have  _ created _ ?” She was furious, barely keeping her voice down. Jaime could feel how close she was to losing her temper. 

Robb Stark only remained silent, staring at the floor in front of him. He had said enough.

“Leave”, Cersei finally hissed. “Leave, now!” She got up from the throne, hastily walking down the stairs while the young wolf left the throne room. As the doors fell shut, she turned around to Jaime.

“Do you know what that means, for us? A hybrid.” She was shaking her head, golden curls flowing down her back and shoulders. She reached out for him, softly touching his chest. “We need her. We need the girl on our side.”

Jaime frowned. As far as he was concerned, the girl loved that Stark boy. Or had loved. Who knew how much of her was left now. “What if she can’t be controlled?”

Cersei smiled. “Then we destroy her.  _ Together.”   _ Like always. 

 

-

 

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, Jon almost jumping from the kitchen chair he had been sitting on. He had not slept for 24 hours, therefore the bell had scared the shit out of him. He knew who it was, of course, but it was the worst timing possible.

The ran a hand through his hair as he walked through the hallway, over to the door. Robb was still gone, Jeyne upstairs asleep and Melisandre was lying in his bed and turning into a monster as far as he knew. _He needed to go check on her. It had been hours._ But he was afraid what was awaiting him. And the opening of the door was a welcome distraction from his mind.

The doorbell rang again until he had actually reached it, already tearing at his nerves. The sound was giving him a headache. He pulled the door open with such force that the wood ached.

His sister Sansa was waiting in front of it, two huge baby blue bags parked next to her and her mobile between her fingers, eyes on the screen. She looked up as he opened, lips curling up in a smile. “Oh hello”, she greeted, letting the phone disappear in the pocket of her grey trenchcoat. Her long auburn hair was straightened and fell down her shoulders and she was wearing a pair of glasses which Jon didn’t know yet. She looked a lot like Catelyn that way.

“Hey”, he replied, opening the door further so she could come in. Out of politeness, he also carried her bags inside. Sansa and him had never had the best of relationships, but they got along.

“Is no one here?” Sansa wanted to know, turning around in the hallway while getting out of her coat.

Explaining the situation would perhaps take too long, so he went for the short version. “Not yet. We had kind of a rough day.”

She frowned at him. “Yeah, I see. You look horrible, what happened to you?” Her glance went down his clothes, blood spatters still all over it. “You know what”, she added, forcing a smile. “I don’t want to know. Where is mother?”

In the exact moment, the door was opened. Robb rushed inside, slamming the door so loudly both Jon and Sansa jumped a little at the sound. As he noticed his sister, his face lightened up for a second. “Sansa, good to see you.” The enthusiasm was faked, of course, and not too well either. “Jon, can we talk?” he added quickly, voice pressing the urgency of his request.

Sansa looked from one Stark brother to another, shaking her head. “I’m gone for three months and all I get as a welcome home is you two acting all weird?”

Robb smiled weakly, hugging her for barely more than a second and then shoving her towards the stairs. “Mother is upstairs, go tell her you’re here!”

“Sure”, Sansa muttered, throwing her coat on top of her bags and making her way upstairs, pouting a little.

Jon sighed, turning to his brother. He had just been to visit Cersei, after a very angry messenger had demanded immediate presence at the Queen’s castle. That couldn’t mean anything good. “What did Cersei want?” he asked quietly. Did he even want to know? Not really.

Robb ran a hand over his face. “Knowing why we attacked Stannis without consulting her first”, he muttered, sounding as tired as Jon felt. “And she knows about Melisandre. I couldn’t hide it, I’m sorry, but they know when you lie.”

Jon closed his eyes for a second. _Amazing._ “What did she have to say about that?”

His brother shrugged. “The obvious. She’s gonna be a monster, what have you done and so on. Nothing I haven’t told you yet.” He smiled lightly, packing Jon on the shoulder and walked over to the staircase. “I need to get some sleep and I recommend you do the same. And keep an eye on your wife.”

Jon kept standing there for another minute or two, blankly staring at the wall in front of him. He was not ready to go upstairs and face the consequences of his actions. _What had he done?_ Had love made him so selfish? He should have just let her go, why hadn’t he be capable of doing that? Now it was too late. The mistake had been made.

He walked down the hallway, every step and every beat of his heart echoing loudly in his ears. The wooden stairs ached under his weight as he made his way upstairs, reaching the second floor much quicker than he had wished. The door to his room – their room, to be precise – was closed, no sound was to be heard. It was empty, hollow. The air seemed to move around him, but still there was too little in his lungs. He felt like suffocating.

The door seemed to open harder than usual, but perhaps it was only the lack of sleep.

He stepped inside the room, look gliding over to the bed. The sheets were tangled and messed up, the white colour burning in his eyes. But it was empty.

She was _gone._


	35. Deep End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You said I killed you,   
> haunt me, then.

The forest was pitch black when she made her way through the thicket, leaves crisping above her and a cold wind striking through her hair. The air seemed to vibrate around her, on some spaces the soft moonlight made its way through the trees and lightened the way. The night was cold as ice, so cold it had already frozen.

Melisandre didn’t feel it, though. In fact she didn’t feel much of anything. Her body seemed light, almost invisible, her steps even more soundless than they had been before. Her eyes seemed to piece through the darkness, noticing every form and every movement. A few paces away from her, a mouse ran through the thicket. Somewhere an owl howled. A raven cried.

But as clear as her senses were, as confused was her mind. She had woken up with intact memories, but everything seemed cluttered, out of place and without connection. The only real image she had was the house, the house in the woods where Stannis had brought her all those years ago. And so she had chosen to go there, without much further thinking. Whatever had happened to her, now and two years ago, she needed to know. There was nothing more important. She couldn’t live without knowing.

The small wooden house appeared in front of her the same way it had back then, the same way she remembered. Melisandre slowed down and stopped for a moment, watching the darkness unfold around her. It felt like home. And perhaps it was, now and for all. _What have they done to me?_ She didn’t remember, if she was honest, even though she remembered so much now. The night at Stannis’ mansion was clear as ice in her head, every little detail up to the gun in his hands. The shot that went off. After that, only darkness. Nothing but darkness. _But for how long?_ She couldn’t tell. But judging by the phase of the moon, not too long.

But Jon was alive, so much she knew, she had recognized his heartbeat only seconds after opening her eyes. _Had he brought her back? Turned her into whatever she was now?_ She took a step towards the house, slowly raising a hand and letting it run over the wood of the door. It felt awfully strange, resting against her skin. Like it had stories to tell. Stories of years of not being touched, of being hidden in darkness and loneliness only to be discovered by Stannis on this very day.

She stumbled backwards, shock running through her. She was not sure what had scared her, perhaps the thoughts had become too vivid in her mind. Wood could not really tell a story, could it? Still, she waited a few seconds before touching it again. This time she knocked. The sound echoed through the forest, almost hurting her ears. She had not noticed how silent it had been before.

Suddenly, the door was opened. It opened, to be more precise. It was not actually opened by someone. Melisandre felt a shiver run down her spine. _Where had she gotten herself into?_ Nevertheless, she stepped inside. She had waited long enough for answers, today would be the day she was going to get some.

The room was almost as dark as the outside, barely illuminated by candles and a big fireplace. She stood in the middle of the room for a few seconds, looking around her. It was empty.

Out of a sudden, there was a voice behind her. “I’ve been wondering when you would find your way to me.”

Melisandre almost jumped, turning around in a heartbeat. She was facing the woman she had seen back then in her memories, only this time it was only the eyes she was able to recognize. The stranger was wearing a mask, wood painted scarlet and leaving only room for a pair of huge, dark eyes. _She is no vampire._ Then why didn’t she have a heartbeat?

“What are you?” Melisandre whispered, not sure why she was keeping her voice down. The door was closed by now. _When had she been closed?_

The woman never moved. “I am the shadow made flesh.” There was a pause following the words. “My name is Quaithe”, she eventually added. “I have been awaiting you, Melisandre.”

Usually, Melisandre was not frightened. Now she was. “How did you know I was coming? I didn’t even know it myself until an hour ago!”

“Oh, you did know”, Quaithe replied, walking over to her fireplace. “Deep inside, you’ve always known. And so have I.” She sat down at one of the small wooden chairs placed around the fire, stretching her arms towards the flames. It almost seemed like the fire was liking over her skin.

The woman was speaking in riddles, but Melisandre didn’t mind that too much. “I’ve been here before”, she began, following her towards the fire. “Haven’t I?”

Quaithe’s eyes never left the dance of the flames. “Of course.” Under her touch, the fire seemed to grow bigger and brighter, now definitely touching her skin. She never moved back. “A king came to me with a request that day”, she continued, never looking at Melisandre.

“Did you erase my memories?” Melisandre asked, slowly sitting down onto one of the chairs as well. She was no longer frightened, only confused.

The woman’s eyes met hers for a moment. “You know it already. You know all of it. Otherwise you would not be here.” The reflections of the fire danced across the red of the mask, glowing in the candlelight.

 _Why was she wearing a mask?_ The face she had seen in her memory was blurry, she couldn’t remember how Quaithe had looked. “I don’t know all of it”, Melisandre insisted. “I only know how Stannis bit me and brought me here, that’s all I know!” That was better than nothing, to be fair, and logically speaking it was not possible for her to know anything else since she had passed out before entering the house. So what was Quaithe implying?

The woman shook her head, very slowly. “You know so much more. It is all inside of you, all that power, all released your transformation.”

She was talking like she was making perfect sense, but Melisandre had a hard time understanding anything. “What transformation? From human to vampire?”

This time, Quaithe’s eyes clung to hers longer. They were almost black, no distinction between pupil and iris. “You are no longer vampire.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Below her hands, the flames were whispering.

 _Do they speak to her?_ Melisandre’s glance went into the fire, follow its dance for a few seconds. They seemed to hypnotise her, draw her in to never release again.

And suddenly, she knew the truth. She saw Jon, barely more than a shadow cast by fire, bowing down to her body and letting his teeth sink into the flesh of her wrist. Cersei Lannister on a throne made of gold, with rubies as eyes and emeralds on her crown. _A hybrid,_ someone whispered. Or were it the flames? Shadows dancing over a battlefield, piles of dead bodies filling the ground. Cold winds rising in the north. A castle swallowed by flame. And a Queen, rising from its ashes.

Almost by force her eyes were ripped away from the flames, her eyes burning with smoke and heat. She felt Quaithe’s glance on her, calm and knowing. “What was that?” Melisandre was able to get out, even though her voice was shaking.

The other woman nodded slowly. “You saw the truth. And the future, all the same.” Her hands rested in her lap now, the fire seemed to have shrunk to a little pile. “The flames have spoken to you, revealed their mysteries.”

Melisandre swallowed hardly. This couldn’t be true. Seeing the future was impossible. _But so were Vampires and Werewolves, weren’t they?_ “Will I be able to see more?” she asked carefully. Suddenly she was intrigued.

“Yes, when the right time comes you will see all, past and present and future alike.” For a moment, she seemed wanting to say more, but remained silent. Only the fire was to be heard.

“How do I know the right time?” After all, she had almost missed it with Jon. This seemed like an even worse thing to miss. Especially because she barely understood anything. She still didn’t know anything more about her lost memories than before her visit.

Quaithe never looked at her. “You will”, was the only answer she gave.

Melisandre resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What kind of an answer was that? “Can you tell me anything else about my memories?” she tried once more, not eager to let go so easily. This was the reason she had come, after all. “Why did Stannis want to erase them?” There was a reason, she knew there was. He wouldn’t do it just like that.

But Quaithe stayed silent, eyes watching the fire burn out and little pillars of smoke rise in the air. It was a strange kind of quiet. Almost final.

“You won’t tell me, will you?” Melisandre eventually concluded.

The woman looked at her once more. A shadow moved across her face, making the mask seem almost black. “It is time to leave”, she simply said.

For a moment, Melisandre considered resisting. _What would Quaithe do if she just attacked her? Forced her to tell the truth?_ She didn’t do it, of course, but the urge was there. But then she only stood up. Perhaps she was just going to get her answers from Stannis that way, sounded like a better plan. He had murdered her, after all. For that she would make his life a living hell, she vowed that. If she had to, she would burn down Dragonstone with everyone and everything inside.

As if having read her thoughts, Quaithe looked up one last time. “Revenge will not save this city. Only forgiveness.”

 _Who said she wanted to save this city?_ She didn’t even care who would sit the iron throne, as long as it wasn’t Stannis with that idiot Davos standing next to him as hand of the king. If she was honest, she never would have imagined him being able to kill her. She felt like she didn’t even know him any more. _Or had she ever known him?_

Melisandre turned to the door, opening it and stepping back into the coldness of the night. Her questions had not been solved, more of the opposite, but she felt an odd sense of finality. Somehow, she knew that she would never come back. Whatever she had seen in the fire, if it was bound to be true, Cersei Lannister would win anyway. Stannis was no Queen, after all.

She walked through the forest, swift and quiet like a shadow and wondered what this transformation meant for her. What really was a hybrid, anyway? She felt her senses being improved, but that was all she knew for now. Were there even other turned hybrids? All she knew about were children, born from a vampire and a wolf, but she had never heard anything about their powers. Now she regretted not studying books as precisely as Stannis. He would know for sure.

Her mind jumped back to Jon, while listening to the birds around her slowly waking up from their night’s sleep. It was almost dawn, after all. Perhaps she should hurry. She hoped that Jon was fine, and that he was not too worried about her. For the first time she regretted going without telling him. But he would’ve wanted to come along and she had needed to be alone for some time.

She reached the end of the forest, where the sun was already throwing its rays through the tops of the trees. Splatters of light decorated the grass, making it seem almost magical. Melisandre stopped in the shadow of the trees, considering for a few seconds. _What was she supposed to do now?_ Suddenly she felt something tickle on her arm, the softest of touches dancing over her skin. It was a ray of sunlight, its warmth gently greeting the coldness of her body. She stared at it for a few moments, unable to move away. How long had it been since she had last felt sunlight? She could not recall.

Out of a sudden intuition she stepped out of the forest, meeting the sun on an open field. Its light was filling the sky, shreds of pink and red clouds flowing above her. _It didn’t hurt her._ She turned around herself, mind not able to grasp all the impulses at once. _She could move in the sun._ Slowly she fell to her knees, touching the grass below her. For a few seconds she was not able to do anything else. _How long had it been._ She let out a laugh, not even sure why. She had not missed being out in daylight during her days as a vampire, it had never really bothered her. Only now she came to realize how much she had missed.

It was bizarre, really. By killing her, Stannis had accidently made her more alive.


	36. The Lion and the Wolf

It was Sansa’s wedding day. All the arrangements had been made, all the guests been invited. Cake had been baked, champagne had been opened and even the weather was nice for once. Sansa was clothed in a simple white wedding dress, the groom wore a black suit with a white tie. His golden hair was glowing in the candlelight like lion’s mane. Cersei’s smile was as proud as any mother’s when her child got married.

Only one person was missing.

It had been two days since Melisandre had left, two days Jon had not seen her. Seeing Sansa in her dress now, all smiled and blushing, getting ready to climb into her car and get married, he got reminded of his own wedding.

 _Where the hell had she gone?_ For all he knew she could be dead by now. Had the transformation even worked? Or had he created some sort of monster, now desperate to murder half the cities population? He didn’t know. He had absolutely no idea. And it was killing him.

Robb walked over to him, frowning deeply. “I’m going with Sansa now, to the chapel. Are you coming?” He played nervously with his tie.

Jon bit his lip. “I’m coming later. I’ll take my own car.” He needed some space from the whole bridal stuff for a moment. His eyes followed Sansa as she climbed into the car, giggling as Jeyne followed her inside. The dress was really pretty, really. Much more simple than the one Melisandre had been wearing, all lace and not much fabric at all. It had not been white, either, but still. It brought the memories back.

“Fine”, his brother muttered, padding his shoulder gently and then turning around to meet the others inside the car. Robb was going to walk Sansa down the aisle, he needed to be there on time.

Jon turned around and trotted back into the house, jamming the door shut behind him. Everything was too quiet, the silence seemed to swallow him. He walked into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sitting down, standing up again. Steps echoed from the walls as he paced through the room. He felt so useless.

Out of a sudden outburst, he reached for a glass standing on the counter. The glass shattered loudly as he smashed it on the ground. And another one. And another one. He didn’t feel anything. Everything was empty.

Suddenly, a sound behind him. A door was opening. Wood was cracking. Then nothing. Jon turned around, still breathing heavily, heart beating loudly inside his chest. Someone was standing in the doorway, eyes fixed upon him.

For a second, his brain was too slow to realize what was happening. His jaw dropped and he felt himself shaking. In joy, perhaps. Or maybe only surprise. “Melisandre”, he breathed.

Her eyes never left his, red meeting gray. She made a step into the room, glass cracking under her shoes. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. The silence stayed empty.

Jon reached for her face, slowly letting his fingers run through her hair, feeling the bones of her jaw, the shape of her face. She was cold as ice. “I thought I lost you”, he whispered. It was the only thing he was capable of saying.

Her lips parted slightly, eyes traveling down to his lips, than back up to meet his iris. “I thought so too”, she said finally. Her voice sounded strange in the quiet.

A few more seconds passed in silence, only his racing heart to be heard. That was as long as it took Jon to fully realize what was happening. As soon as he did, there was nothing which stopped him.

His lips crashed against hers, tongue flicking into her mouth. He felt himself burning inside, from missing her, wanting her, loving her. _She was here._ His hands teared at her top, almost ripping it above her head. The fabric of his shirt followed, as her nails dug into the skin of his back, leaving marks as red as her hair. His lips drew patterns on her neck, painting the pale skin deeply purple.

They sunk down onto the ground, spatters of glass digging into their skin. They didn’t feel it. All they felt were each other.

Jon got rid of his jeans, hers followed. His hands were in her hair, running through the soft curls. She smelled like ash and smoke, like a forest fire and something else he couldn’t quite grasp. It was messing with his senses, making him feel dizzy. Or perhaps she was just too intoxicating.

He felt his skin burning where ever she touched him, if with heat or ice he could not be sure. Her fingertips dripped over his skin, finding the lines of his jaw and neck. Sharp nails tasted the skin, as her lips joined his and her teeth drew blood from his lips.

“I love you”, he breathed against her skin. His fingers found the clip of her bra, opening it, tossing it aside.

She smiled, reached for his hand and kissed it, the parts where shards of glass had drawn wounds into the skin. Blood stained her lips and he tasted it as she kissed him again. _I won’t ever let you go._ He did not say the words, but the promise was sealed with blood.

His lips traveled down her body, purple stains meeting white skin. He played with her nipples, feeling her body rise under him.

“I love you”, she whispered, licking the blood of her lips. Her eyes met his, and the promise was done. _I won’t ever leave you._ This time for real.

She screamed as he entered her, followed by a wild laugh as he thrust deeper inside her. Her nails drew blood on his back, she licked her fingers and he kissed her. Her lips tasted like heaven. _How could he live without her?_

He was begging for their lips to meet, their skin to touch. There was not an inch of space left between them. He was burning, body and soul. But her skin was cold, only his veins were screaming with heat. The blood around them seemed to be liquid drops of rubies, leaving marks and stains. Glass cut into skin, just like teeth did. She was inside his bloodstream, and he was not willing to let go.

 

-

 

It didn’t occur to him what had really happened until after, when he was lying on the cold kitchen floor, amidst glass and blood that was apparently all his own. He did not feel like bleeding, though. More like he had gone numb.

Melisandre’s eyes were fixed on the floor, her fingers absently playing with his own. Her lips were still red with blood, now dried down and darker. From time to time, her tongue licked over the skin to taste some of it.

He watched her for a while, not certain what to say. _She looked different._ In what way he could not say. It was neither her hair nor her eyes nor anything else someone else might notice, but a rather subtle difference in how she was behaving.

“What happened?” he finally asked. He was afraid the question might leave him if left unanswered.

She turned to look at him, face unmoved. The movement of her fingers stopped. Suddenly, her skin felt very cold. “I don’t know”, she replied, shaking her head a little. Then she sat up. The movement felt sharp, too fast. She reached for her bra and closed the clasp on her back.

Jon took a deep breath. “Do you remember what happened?”

Her movements froze for a second. It was almost like she was debating whether to lie or tell the truth. “I do”, was the eventual answer. “I remember everything.” She quickly rose to her feet, picking her jeans up from the ground and throwing his shirt over to Jon. “Where’s your family?”

Of course he noticed the sudden change of topic. “Sansa’s wedding”, he informed her, following her example and getting up. The cuts on his skin burned as pulled the fabric over his head, the white shirt immediately stained with red.

Melisandre frowned in his direction. “Why are you not with them?” she wanted to know, suddenly softer. Her own skin was flawless, the purple bruises had already partly faded. They never stayed long on her.

Jon sighed, running a hand through his hair. The ceremony was set to begin in an hour, they had still time. “I couldn’t face a wedding without you by my side.” It was the truth, simply. Or maybe hardly. He was not so sure anymore.

She looked at him for a moment, and there was so much sadness in her eyes he almost couldn’t bear it. _Why did their story always have to be a tragedy?_ “I’m so sorry”, she whispered softly. It was hardly more than a breath. “I didn’t know how to come back.” She reached out for him, letting herself sink into his embrace. Her arms curled around his neck as she pressed her body against his. He felt her resting for a few heartbeats.

“Where have you been?” he asked carefully, running a hand through his hair. His lips rested on her head. The last hint of her perfume was in the air.

She was hesitating, he could sense it. He knew her too well by now. Slowly she pulled back now, arms crossed in front of her chest. She was still only wearing a bra, shirt mindlessly tossed over on of the kitchen chairs. Now she reached for it, to buy some time.

“Melisandre”, he reminded her of the question. The sound of her name sounded foreign on his tongue.

She bit her lip in response. “Can we speak about this another time?” Her hand reached for his once more, joining them. She was working to distract him. “Can we not just leave it for today and go to the wedding?” Her tone was almost pleading. _Please don’t ask me anything else I have no answer for._

Actually he had meant to say no. Under different circumstances, he might have done so. But in this very moment, he was just so grateful that she had returned to him. They were going to be together now. So what did it matter if she told him today or tomorrow or the day after? “We should get dressed then”, he only said. The questions remained unanswered.

Melisandre smiled, carefully. “Perhaps we should clean up this mess first”, she suggested, looking down on the broken glass still spattered on the floor around them. Some shards were cracking under the tip of her heels.

Jon ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah”, he muttered, turning around and opening one of the counters, where he thought that Catelyn kept a hand brush. He was right indeed. Quickly he cleaned up the glass and threw it in the bin, hoping the others would not notice the missing glasses.

Melisandre leaned against the table in silence, eyes following his every move. Her teeth were digging into her lower lip, playing with the flesh. “Did you hear anything from Stannis?” she eventually asked. “Is he still alive?”

That was another thing which Jon wondered about. As quick tempered as Melisandre was – or had been, who knew anymore – he was surprised she had not skinned him alive yet. Therefore he was careful with the answer. “I think so, yes.”

Her eyes grew a little darker. “Good”, she muttered. “I want to be the one who has the pleasure.”

Jon would gladly help her with that. But that was another topic for later. Not today. “Do you want to go upstairs?” he wanted to know, already in the door frame. It was a welcome change of topic.

She nodded, following him through the hallway and upstairs. Her steps did not make a single sound. He had missed this. Had missed _her._ By now he was glad that he had bitten her. If he went back in time, he would do the same thing all over again. He simply couldn’t live without her anymore.

If that was a curse or a blessing he was not quite certain yet.

 

-

 

Melisandre hesitated slightly as he opened the door to their room, a sudden freeze taking her body. Jon felt it beside him, watched her eyes glide over the furniture. _What was she searching for?_ She was holding back, hands only absently touching his arm.

“Does the room next door have a fire place?” she eventually asked into the quiet.

Jon frowned at the words, being spoken without any context or introduction. Why was she wondering about such things? “I didn’t think vampires like fire very much”, he replied, joining her hand with hers and leading her into the room. The door fell shut quietly.

She smiled weakly. “Only I am not a vampire anymore, am I?” Her eyes wandered mindlessly through the room as she walked over to the dresser, stopping in front of it and letting her fingers run over the wood.

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His lips found her neck almost by themselves. The purple bruises had vanished by now, leaving only flawless white skin. “What do you need a fireplace for?” he wanted to know, running a hand through her hair.

Gently she pulled herself from his embrace, opening one of the drawers and reaching for one of his suits. “Just wondering”, she muttered, selecting a matching tie and handing him the clothes. “Better get dressed, right?”

He could not help the smile that danced across his lips and neither the urge to kiss her this very moment. His lips brushed against hers for an instant, a reminder that she was really there. That he had not in fact lost her.

She returned the kiss with more hunger, teeth sucking at his bottom lip, close to draw blood. The tip of her tongue touched his, teasing him.

Nevertheless he pulled back. There was a wedding to attend, after all. “Get yourself a dress that doesn’t draw all the attention away from the bride, please”, he reminded her gently, watching as she went through the drawer with her own clothes.

“I don’t think I own anything from that category”, she replied, smiling in his direction. “Besides, if I’ll make my big ‘I am not dead’ announcement, I might as well look good doing it.”

She pulled a red dress out of the drawer, the fabric all silk and satin in her hands. It hugged her body perfectly as she slipped into it, even though it was definitely more subtle than anything else she had. It would have to do, anyway.

“How do I look?” Melisandre asked, turning around herself in front of the mirror, copper curls running down her back like waves. Her pale skin seemed to radiate, even in the electric light of the overhead lamp.

Jon smiled, closing the buttons of his suit. They would have to hurry if they wanted to make it in time for the ceremony. “Perfect”, he ensured her, reaching for her hand once more to guide her towards the door. “Let’s get going.”

“Who is getting married, anyway?” she wanted to know, turning around to face him while walking down the stairs.

He knew she wouldn’t fall, her sense of balance was perfect after all, but still he felt the slight hint of worry in his chest. “Sansa”, he replied, softly turning her around. “Can you please walk downstairs like a normal person?”

He heard her laugh, but her face was serious when she turned around again. “Why is she getting married now? Cersei is Queen, not her son!”

Jon sighed. “To secure the alliance. Marriages are always the best way.”

This time her laugh was almost mocking. “We are the best example, aren’t we? We really helped in securing an alliance with Stannis!” She smiled at him, waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes searched for his. “You don’t really believe this, right? That a marriage will keep Cersei from betraying you?”

He frowned. “May I remind you that this was your idea? You said Cersei is the better partner than Stannis.” Even though that woman had cut his father’s head off. And had done things far worse. But the options were limited, after all.

Melisandre crossed her arms in front of her chest, fingers playing with her dress. She was getting defensive. “Well, Stannis killed me two days ago, so I guess I was right to say that this alliance was shit!”

They were leaving the house now, walking towards Jon’s car. It was a dark night, the moon hidden behind a wall of clouds.

He noticed Melisandre’s eyes gliding towards the sky, as if she was searching for something. She seemed uncomfortable, out of a sudden. “You okay?” he wanted to know, as he opened the door to the passenger seat for her.

She nodded, quickly. A little too quickly perhaps. “Sure”, she muttered, striking a loose curl behind her ear before getting into the car.

Jon closed the door behind her and walked over to his own seat, sitting down and starting the engine.

He looked over to her sometimes during the drive, watched her sitting sunken deeply into her seat, legs crossed and eyes on the road. From now and then she played with the end of her dress, checking if enough part of her leg was still covered or if the silk was throwing wrinkles. But there was something different about the way she was behaving. About _her._ He could not quite tell what it was, but there was something off. They would talk about it another time, she had said, and sounded so tired as if she would rather never speak of it. What had happened in those two days she had been gone?

They reached the little chapel just in time, right before the ceremony started. Robb was meeting their car right on the parking space, walking towards them as soon as he noticed the familiar car. “Jon, finally”, he greeted as Jon got out of the car, patting his brother on the back. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry, it’s my fault”, Melisandre interrupted, smiling amused as she climbed out of the car herself. “I distracted him!”

Robb’s jaw dropped for a second. His eyes went from Melisandre to his brother, then back to her. “Oh shit”, he exhaled. “You’re alive!”

She shrugged. “I guess so.”

Robb hugged her quickly, mentioning about ten times how surprised and happy he was to see her, but that they had a wedding to attend to and needed to hurry. He practically forced them into the chapel, showing them their seats and urging Jeyne to stay seated and stop the hugging and welcoming.

The ceremony itself was quick and without much romance, Sansa was blushing and smiling, but Joffrey showed more of a fake smile than a real one. Cersei was sitting in the front row, eagerly encouraging her son to continue the grin. _Don’t you ever fall out of your role,_ her forced smile was saying.

Melisandre was half falling asleep next to Jon, eyes searching the room for something more interesting to look at than the wedding. Eventually her glance found Cersei Lannister, wearing a green robe and a crown of emeralds on top of her golden hair. She was definitely not dressed subtle at all. Next to her her brother was seated, seeming just as bored by the ceremony as Melisandre felt. He was also not looking at the bride or groom at all, but rather staring at the ground in front of him.

Finally the couple was leaving the chapel, followed by the rest of the guests. Melisandre was walking at the very end, since Jon and Robb where with Sansa at the beginning of the train. Her eyes searched for the Lannister twins, which were supposed to be with Joffrey, but surprisingly walked just as slow as Melisandre did herself.

The twins exchanged a quick look and Jaime quickened his steps, leaving his sister who was now walking directly next to Melisandre.

“What a wonderful night”, Cersei mused, voice as smooth as if she wanted to begin a simple small talk. Of course she did not. Her true intentions were not hidden well enough. “Brings back memories of your own weddings for sure.” Her eyes pierced through Melisandre for a second.

“Not really”, she replied dryly. “I did not marry a prince after all. You did, though. A king, even.”

She watched the queen’s face change within an instance, her features harden with the mention of Robert Baratheon’s name. Rumor was Cersei had killed him herself, with a little help of her twin brother. Not the happiest of marriages, perhaps. But her smile was as sharp as a loaded gun. “My wedding was 17 years ago, I hardly remember it.”

 _Do you, your grace?_ Melisandre did not answer, she did not feel like having anymore talk with the queen. She rather came straight to the point. “What do you want from me?” she asked, slowing down her pace a bit more to separate them from the group. Not everyone needed to hear this talk.

Cersei’s smile never faded. “I heard about your little transformation and I am quite curious to hear about those new powers of yours.”

Melisandre swallowed hard, hoping the queen would not notice. “I haven’t discovered any new powers yet, but if I’ll do you’ll be the first to know”, she replied, not even trying to hide the sarcastic tone. She really did not care about Cersei Lannister’s opinion of her.

“That’s a pity”, Cersei replied. “Because there are many authors who speak of the enormous powers of hybrids.” Her eyes met Melisandre’s for a moment. “We don’t want all of that greatness waste away, do we?”

There was a moment of silence. “What are you asking?” She really did not understand what the queen was trying to tell her. Her voice was growing impatient by now.

Cersei stopped her walk, reaching for Melisandre’s arm and pulling her closer towards her. “I want you to stand on my side.” It was barely more than a whisper.

Melisandre frowned. “Aren’t we all on the same side?” she countered, not worrying about keeping her voice down.

The queen’s lips curled up in a smile. “Let me give you some advice. Love is poison. A sweet poison, yes, but it will kill you all the same.” She made a slight pause, letting the words sink in. “The more people you love, the weaker you are.” Finally she let go of Melisandre, taking a few steps back. Her eyes were burning rubies in the darkness. “Remember my words.”

Melisandre watched her leave, even more confused than before. _Love is poison._ What did that mean? Perhaps it was only the truth. Love had killed her, after all. If it had not been for love, Stannis would never have shot her. She bit her lip, staring absently into the darkness around her. The air seemed to be vibrating, voices and laughter were humming in the air. The only source of light were candles and a small glimpse of the moon, still everything was as clear to her as on any day.

Did she have to tell Jon about the things she had seen? Wasn’t it enough if he knew about the sunlight thing? She watched her fingers play with the fabric of her dress, the silk feeling soft against her hard skin. What was she supposed to do now, anyway? She felt so lost, like she had lost all her sense of purpose. She didn’t care who sat the iron throne, not even minded if Stannis lived or died anymore. Everything felt so empty, so hollow. Like she was missing the bigger picture.

Suddenly a voice interrupted her thoughts, Jon was standing not far from her and called her name.

Quickly she hurried to meet him. “Hey”, she greeted, trying her best to sound enthusiastic.

“Did you talk to Cersei?” he asked immediately, reaching for her hands and pulling her closer.

His body was warm against her and suddenly she felt better. At home, almost. “No”, she muttered, burying her head in his chest. “It was nothing.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Okay.” His hands traced the lines of her face, then running down her spine. She could feel the pressure through the thin silk.

She closed her eyes for a moment, only listening to the beat of his heart. It was the only thing she could hold onto.

_Perhaps love was indeed poison, but it was the loveliest thing she had ever tasted._


	37. Treason by blood

Melisandre was sitting in Jon’s car, head leaned against the window and eyes on the street. The landscape was flying past her, grotesque shadows in the dark night. Sometimes there were movements, little animals escaping when they heard the car engine or small twigs which bent when hit by the wind. She could see all that, now, see it as clear as in bright daylight. And she heard things, too. Every roar of the car, every stone which cracked under its weight. Somewhere an owl ripped apart the body of a mouse, a nightingale sang and her cries echoed through the silence.

She felt Jon’s eyes on her every now and then, whenever he did not have to watch the street. There was worry, she could sense it even though she did not meet his gaze. There was a certain tension in his body, in the way his fingers gripped the starring wheel.

After some time, she just couldn’t hold back anymore. “If there’s something you want to say, just say it.” She looked over to him, watching the way his eyes clung to the street as if to avoid her own. But there was no answer. “Jon”, she repeated, more urgent this time. Her voice was almost growing impatient.

He took a deep breath, lungs deeply inflating with air. His heartbeat quickened as he seemed to think about the answer. “If I only knew where to start”, he finally said. His gaze was still fixed on the street. The grip around the steering wheel tightened.

“What do you mean?” she wanted to know, even though it was clearly obvious what he meant. _Where have you been? What did you do? What have I turned you into?_ All the questions she had no answers to. All the questions she did not want to hear.

He looked over to her, gray eyes meeting hers. “You know what I mean.” The car rolled onto the pavement in front of Stark mansion, just the same moment Robb also stopped in front of their garage.

The sun was now almost up, its first rays breaking through the clouds and lighting up the sky. Without another word Melisandre opened the door and climbed out of the car, ignoring the fact that Jon had not even parked properly yet. He didn’t say anything, though, but simply watched her get out. Perhaps he was done with her already.

She walked into the house without turning around or anything else, just wanting to lie down and shut the world out. Just out of habit she pulled down the blinds, making the room almost pitch black. She then slipped out of her dress, covering herself with the sheets only in her underwear. She didn’t care anymore.

Jon cursed when he entered the room and directly ran into the cupboard, searching for the light switch for entirely five minutes before finally switching the electric light on. “Not everyone of us can see in the dark”, he hissed, shaking his head and crossing the room.

Melisandre hid under the sheets, only her eyes uncovered. She silently watched Jon undress and redress in a black shirt and some pajama bottoms, before switching off the light and searching his way to the bed with the flashlight of his phone. It was sort of funny to watch, actually, and it even brought a little smile to her lips.

“Very funny”, he muttered in her direction, while lying down next to her and turning off the phone. “I’ll never understand why you need a room this dark when you don’t even sleep.”

She smiled a little, feeling his breathing softly stroking her skin. “Personal preference.” As a child she had never liked the darkness, feared it even. She remembered that now. But nowadays it gave her a sense of security, the ability to hide. Often she felt like a shadow herself, blending in with the night. Even if she was able to wander in daylight now, the darkness was still her home. That would not change.

She felt Jon turning next to her, head now towards her. He could not see her, of course, but she still felt his eyes on her. “Why do you try to escape whenever I ask about what happened?” It was a very honest question and it left lots of room for an answer.

Her fingers played with the sheets, almost nervously. “Because it’s complicated and I can’t even explain half of it myself.” Bits and pieces of memories still came back from time to time, rushing through her head like shadows. “I only know that Stannis erased my memories, but not why.” Suddenly, there was determination in her voice. She knew what to do. The only thing that made sense at this point. “But I’m going to find out.” Too quickly for Jon to react she sat up, jumping out of the bed and towards the window. She pushed the blinds up, letting sunlight swallow the room.

“Wow”, Jon stopped her, reaching for her hand and pulling her towards him. “Calm down for a second, okay?”

Actually, she did not feel like calming down at all. She felt like visiting Stannis like a ghost which was haunting him now, ever laughing and hiding behind the next corner. That was the kind of revenge she liked. _Revenge will not save this city. Only forgiveness will,_ Quaithe’s words appeared in her head. But who cared about that old woman, anyway? She had given her nothing but riddles and more questions, not a single answer.

Jon pulled her closer, their bodies now touching. She could feel his warmth on her naked skin. His fingers were in her hair, dancing over her neck. “You can’t just go there now?” He was trying to distract her, obviously.

She had to admit it was kind of working. “Why not?” she wanted to know, not quite as convinced as before. She leaned against him, arms wrapped around his neck. The smell of his aftershave tickled her nose.

“Because it’s reckless and dangerous and he won’t tell you anything, anyway”, Jon concluded, fingers now having reached the bottom part of her spine.

Melisandre smiled at the words. Reckless and dangerous, that sounded just like her. “Believe me, I’ll make him tell me”, she whispered, leaning forward and joining their lips.

His tongue flicked into her mouth, playing with hers and running over her bottom lip. It started soft, but quickly became more heated. Jon had a plan, obviously hoping to distract her with sex. Not this time, though.

She parted from him relatively quickly, immediately missing the taste of his lips. But she couldn’t get lost, not now. “Nice try”, she grinned, drawing apart from him and picking up her dress from the floor.

“I’m sure the dress will be enough reason for Stannis to tell the truth”, Jon muttered, not even trying to hide the jealousy in his words.

She rolled her eyes at him, closing the zipper and quickly tying her shoes. She was already on her way over to the window, but Jon started a second try and held her back. “You can’t go alone”, he argued, blocking her way to the window. “Think about this again, please.”

Melisandre sighed. “He has killed me before, what else could happen?” She instantly regretted the words as she saw the worry in Jon’s eyes. “But”, she added quickly, “he wouldn’t be able to beat me now. Not after what happened.”

A frown appeared on his face. “What do you mean?”

This conversation was clearly going in the wrong direction. “I’ll tell you later, okay? When I’m back. I promise.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, before gently pushing him away from the window and disappearing through it.

 

-

 

Jon found Robb in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hands and nervously walking around. He stopped as he noticed his brother, taking a sip of his coffee. His eyes seemed to pierce through Jon. “So Melisandre can walk in daylight, huh? Any more secret powers I should know about?” He sounded almost accusing.

Jon sighed. “I don’t know. She doesn’t talk.” It was the truth, after all. Not that he had tried particularly hard, but his brother didn’t need to know that. That was really none of his business.

“I am the King”, Robb began slowly. “I need to protect my people. Also from Melisandre, if necessary.” There was a deep frown on his face. “So we can trust her?”

How much he wanted to say yes and let it be the truth… “I don’t know”, he admitted. Once he would have claimed that he knew her, inside and out, know what she was feeling, thinking, about to be doing. Today he could say no such thing. Being honest, he did rarely recognize her anymore. She had become a mystery to him. “I really can’t tell.”

Robb ran a hand through his hair. “Where is she? If we can’t trust her, you need to keep an eye on her at all times. I won’t have my people endangered!”

Keeping an eye on Melisandre, that was a task for itself. Jon bit his lip, clenching his jaw for a few seconds. “She went to speak to Stannis.”

His brother looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “She has _what_?” His voice was hardly controlled. One could see the anger sparkling in his eyes. “You’ve let her go there, alone, without backup, without someone checking on her?”

“As if I could have stopped her, you know how she is!” Jon replied, now angry himself. Melisandre had always been hard to tame, but now more than ever. And he did not really fancy standing in between her and the poor Stannis before she ripped him apart. Besides that he did not care. It was only Stannis, after all.

Robb buried his face in his hands for a moment. “The last time we went there without authorization from Cersei Lannister she almost had me beheaded! What do you think she’ll do when she finds out Melisandre slaughtered Stannis?” He shook his head. “All of this was doomed to fail from the start.”

“Is Cersei our boss now or why does she decide everything?” Jon hissed back. “You are just as much a king as she is a queen.”

Robb sighed. “As long as she has the larger army, we’ll do as she tells us. Which means you need to go to Dragonstone and bring Melisandre back here before she kills Stannis!”

Jon shook his head. “Why would Cersei care who kills Stannis or in what way? He is her enemy.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Robb’s eyes were fixed on the wall in front of him as he mindlessly turned the coffee cup in his hands. Jon nervously stepped from one foot onto the other.

“ _Fine_ ”, Robb finally said. “But if this goes wrong, she’ll take the blame. You and I, we knew nothing about what she was doing. I don’t want any Starks involved in this, understood?”

Jon hesitated a few seconds, but nodded. “Of course.” Melisandre didn’t listen to him when he had wanted to stop her, so there was nothing more that he could do. Dragging her away from Stannis would probably only end badly and he was not keen to find that out. “How is Sansa?” he tried changing the topic.

His brother seemed to have cooled down a little. “She’s good, I just had her on the phone. She loves the castle and told me about five times how great everything is.”

Jon nodded. At least one person who was happy under these circumstances. “Tywin Lannister was not at the wedding”, he added. “Is he still favoring Joffrey for the throne?”

Robb frowned. “I haven’t heard a thing about him in weeks, I don’t even know if he’s still away or already in town.” He took a last sip of coffee and then placed the empty cup on the counter. “If he’d try to overthrow Cersei and succeeds, we would be as good as dead even with Sansa inside the family. Everyone knows that he loathes wolves.”

Jon had a headache by now. “Perhaps we should concentrate on out current problems and not also future ones which could or could not arise.”

His brother nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Tywin is not our concern at the moment.”

_But he would be, more sooner than later._

 

-

 

The doors to the throne rooms opened with a crack, candle light flickering in the shadow. Footsteps echoed down the long hallways of the castle as a man entered the room, his long coat touching the wooden floor. His face was half in darkness, making his cheekbones and jawline seem even more hard than they were. His hair was white blonde, shining golden in the dim candlelight.

Tywin Lannister stood tall as a king, even though his daughter was the one sitting the throne.

“Father”, Cersei greeted him, lips pressed together. Her fingers were gripping the sides of her throne as if Tywin was going to rip her down any moment.

Jaime stood next to her, half hidden in the shadows himself. He was not truly fearing for Cersei’s safety in their father’s presence, but one could never know.

“You were not here for the wedding”, Cersei noticed, continuing to talk even though Tywin had not greeted her back.

His face was frozen, as he approached her slowly. “Have you expected me to stand by and watch as you pass the heritage of our throne to a _wolf?_ ” His tone was cool, but one could feel the tension in the air.

Cersei’s eyes traveled to Jaime, as if he could help her. She did not dare to look her father in the eye. “I am the queen. I do as I please.”

“If you continue to do so, you’ll have no kingdom left to rule and no throne to sit on soon!” The anger could not be missed by now.

Cersei’s grip around the throne tightened at the words. “Once I have defeated Stannis, this kingdom is mine”, she went on to defend herself, but Tywin interrupted her.

“ _Once_ you have done so perhaps, but how are you planning to do so? You’ve done nothing but watch things play out for _weeks!”_ He was almost yelling at her by now.

Jaime watched how his sister raised her chin, straightening her back while listening to their father’s accusations. He knew how much his words always meant to her.

“I only did what you wanted me to do, father. Wait until the army is complete”, she replied, but her voice was shaking.

Tywin’s eyes seemed to burn, too small fires in the darkness of the room. “I also commanded you to get rid of the Starks and what did you do? Make an alliance and adopt one of them?” He was mocking her by now. “This marriage was stupid and threw us months back in our planning!”

Again, Cersei’s eyes were searching for Jaime. But he had nothing to offer. No help, no condolences. Only silence.

“Sansa is a sweet girl, innocent and easy to manipulate. She won’t be a problem to us”, Cersei answered slowly, her voice having grown a lot more quiet. “Perhaps she’ll make Joffrey happy.”

Tywin rolled his eyes at her, shaking his head slowly. “Your son is a king, he doesn’t need o be happy.”

“He is only a boy”, Cersei objected. “And no king yet.” Her tone grew sharp with the last words, as if she wanted to remind Tywin that it was in fact her who was sitting the throne.

For a few seconds the room was utterly silent. Tywin’s eyes seemed to cut through his daughter. Finally, he took the word again. “I’m taking Joffrey with me to Lannisport. I’m going to make him the commander of the army waiting there, while you deal with the Starks.”

Cersei’s jaw almost dropped. “You will _not_ take my son away from me!” she hissed, shaking her head so fast that the golden curls were bouncing. The jewels on her crown spread particles of light over the ceilings.

“I have not asked for permission”, her father said simply.

Cersei swallowed hardly, wringing her hands nervously while searching for words. “You should have, I am your queen!” There was a lot less confidence in her voice than the words would have needed to sound convincing.

It was surprising that Tywin did not burst out in laughter. But there was only a sharp grin on his lips. “You are queen because I was clever enough to marry you to Robert Baratheon. You are queen because I wanted you to be queen. And if I wanted, I could make your son king in no less than a heartbeat, so if you love that throne you should be careful how you speak with me.” His voice was very quiet, but that only made the words more powerful.

Jaime shifted uncomfortably from one leg to the other. He felt the urge to intervene, but did not dare to.

Cersei’s eyes burned wild with rage, but she was defeated. “What will you have me do?”

Her father smiled. “I’ll take your son with me and show him what it’s like to be an adult in this world. You can keep the Stark girl, if you love her so much. But get rid of Stannis, quickly. He only causes trouble. Keep the Starks for later, if you can’t handle two enemies at once.” There was a short pause. “Is that understood?”

“Of course, father”, Cersei answered mildly. Her expression was frozen and she sat the throne as if she wanted to prove to Tywin that she owned it.

He nodded, now turning to Jaime for the first time. “You can accompany Joffrey to Lannisport. I have some business for you there.”

Jaime felt Cersei’s alarmed eyes cut into his back. Nervously, he cleared his throat before answering. “I’m afraid I have my own business in the city, father. I can’t leave.”

Tywin was not used to his son talking back. “What kind of business?”

Jaime threw a quick glance over to his sister, and gladly she reacted quickly. “He is hand of the queen, of course he had business here!”

Their father hesitated for a moment, before slowly nodding. “Joffrey and I will leave at nightfall”, he announced, before turning around and leaving the room with large steps.

The twins waited until the castle had gone silent, before Cersei rose from the throne and hurried down the stairs. “He is _not_ going to make Joffrey king!” she hissed, wringing her hands which were slightly shaking. “I have not suffered Robert’s drunk ass for more than ten years only to be cast aside like this!” Her eyes seemed to spray sparks of anger. “I waited, and so can he. I’ve waited all my life for this!”

“I know”, Jaime replied soothing, reaching for his sister’s hands to calm her down. “We won’t let him do this. The throne is yours.” Their eyes met, and for a moment there was silence.

“I am the queen”, Cersei said, almost as if to prove she was right.

“You are the queen”, he repeated the words. “And no one is going to take that away from you!”

His sister’s eyes glowed with determination. “I want the hybrid.”

Jaime frowned. What difference would one girl make? Why her? “What for?” he wanted to know.

A smirk appeared on Cersei’s face. “ _To win this war.”_


	38. War of hearts

Dragonstone was in darkness when Melisandre reached it, not a single window illuminated. Most of the blinds were already down, since dawn was quickly approaching. Not that she cared anymore, it didn’t matter for her. Which was her advantage now.

She entered the house from the backside, pushing one of the blinds up by force and crushing the glass, watching the pieces fall to the grounds. Someone had heard it for sure, but she didn’t care. At the moment she felt like she could take every vampire in the house all by herself.

Surprisingly, no more than one guy came to check on the window, who she quickly knocked out. It was a shame, even. She had been in the mood for a much harder fight. A challenge maybe even, just some fun.

Stannis was in the library, as so often reading a book. He was sitting in the chair with his back to the door, and didn’t even notice when she stopped in the doorway, back leaned against the frame. She only watched him for some time, considering how to make the best entrance. Then she just decided to go for it. It would be enough fun nonetheless.

“What are you reading?” she eventually asked into the silence, an amused smile on her face as she watched Stannis jump up from his chair, turning around with horror in his eyes.

Stannis Baratheon was not a man who was easily frightened, she knew that best of all. But now he looked absolutely terrified. His head was shaking. “This is not possible”, he whispered. “I killed you, I did it myself.”

Melisandre smiled, biting her bottom lip. “Then I guess I’m here to haunt you.” She giggled, beginning to approach him with small steps. Her heels were lightly clicking on the floor.

Stannis eyes were wide, following her every move. He stepped back when she came too close. “You’re dead”, he repeated, as if trying to convince himself. “I _killed_ you.”

She tiled her head, eyeing him for a moment. “And how do you feel about that?” She did not really expect an apology, but maybe at least some regret. Or something close to it, perhaps.

But there was nothing. Stannis’ eyes stayed dark, shadowed, not even a hint of an emotion apart from utter shock. And despair. Lots of it. “You are not really here”, he muttered. “I must be imagining you.”

She rolled her eyes at him. By now she had cornered him so that his back was up against the table, so no room to escape. They were standing very close now. His eyes were glued to hers. “Obviously killing me was not as successful as you thought.” It was incredibly entertaining to watch him like this.

“I saw you die”, Stannis argued, but he seemed not as convinced as before. “I did it myself...” His voice broke at the end of the words.

A few seconds went on in harsh silence. Melisandre shifted closer, their bodies now almost touching. She could feel the tension in Stannis rise with every inch she filled between them. “Are you afraid of me?” she whispered, words barely audible.

His eyes were shifting to her lips now, only centimeters apart from his. He was still not daring to touch her. “Should I?” he asked in return.

A smile danced across her lips. “You have no idea.”

And just when he leaned forward to kiss her she stepped back, grabbing him and throwing his body across the room. He flew into one of the book shelves, the wood crashing under his weight and books falling to the floor. The noise filled the air, but then it grew silent once more. The entire house seemed to hold its breath.

Stannis jumped upwards, carefully watching her next move. “What’s wrong with you?” he gasped, shaking his head. “How did you come back?”

Melisandre felt the anger rise within her. “You _killed_ me!” If she was honest, it was more than anger. It was hurt. “You have turned me into a vampire, you were my-” she broke off. Those feelings had no place here. “How could you do that to me?” she whispered.

He clenched his jaw. “You left me no choice.” It was as simple and as complicated as that.

She nodded slowly. “Why did you erase my memory? No need to deny it, I know it’s true.” There was a slight pause. “I just need to know why.” He would tell her, she would make him. No matter what it took. She was done making compromises and excuses for Stannis. He was her enemy now, more than ever.

His face grew harder. “I’d prefer not to tell you.”

She smiled. “Fine.” Carefully she slipped her dress upwards, reaching for the knife which was tied around her leg. She turned it in her hands, the metal blade catching the reflections of the candlelight.

However, Stannis did not look afraid at all. _He had no idea what was coming._ “You know you can’t beat me!” he taunted her. “I’ve always been stronger than you.”

 _Oh we’ll see about that._ Melisandre simply smiled, approaching him slowly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Within a second she attacked him, swinging the knife in his direction. He escaped, but only to stumble backwards against one of the other shelves. For a second nothing happened, but then the wood cracked terribly and the first board fell, ripping all the others down with it. That subtle moment of distraction was enough for Melisandre to reach Stannis, pushing him backwards and bury the knife deep in his lower abdomen.

The look of surprise and shock on his face was enough to make her smile return. She forced him to his knees, gasping in pain as she shoved the knife deeper into the flesh. “You want to tell me now?” she asked, kneeling in front of him so their heads were at the same height.

“What are you?” Stannis gasped, looking down at the wounds. Blood was slowly dripping onto the floor, staining the wood dark red.

Melisandre leaned forward. “Your own personal nightmare”, she breathed, beginning to turn the knife around in the wound, making Stannis growl with pain. “Just tell me what I want to know!”

“You’ve always been the dramatic type”, he hissed, still seeming to be determined not to tell her anything. “Why don’t we just talk about this and-” his voice broke off when she pulled the knife out of the wound, only to stab him again a few inches higher. His body fell backwards, against one of the shelves. He muttered something which sounded a lot like curse words, trying to stop some of the bleeding with his hands. “If I could I’d kill you all over again”, he growled angrily.

Melisandre sighed. “Exactly, _if you could._ Accept it, I beat you!” She bit her lip. “Doesn’t that feel horrible?” She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m better than you!”   
For a moment, he just stared back into her eyes. She had been unconcentrated for barely half a second, but it was enough for Stannis to rip the knife from her hands. He aimed for her, but missed as she jumped to her feet. Her reactions were faster than his, luckily.

“It’s getting interesting”, she mused, watching him rise to his feet with the knife in his fingers, the blade dripping with blood.

“I killed you once I can do it again”, he spit out, grinding his teeth while approaching her. He swung the knife at her, but too slow. Melisandre jumped at him, attempting to grab the knife but instead only causing him to fall over, crashing against one of the windows. She felt the glass breaking above her and only a second later a rain of shards hit them. The still closed blind cracked against the weight of their bodies, before finally giving in and breaking with a loud noise. Stannis attempted to hold his balance, but as Melisandre was pressed against him he failed and they both fell through the window, landing on the soft grass outside the mansion.

Melisandre quickly turned over, feeling the shards stick into her skin at numerous places. Not that she cared particularly, but it was also not the most pleasant feeling. She ripped some of them out, throwing them mindlessly onto the ground. It was not earlier than that moment when she finally realized that it was already dawn. The sun had crept over the tops of the trees, sending its rays directly into her direction. She felt the warm light creep over her skin, and a smile formed on her lips.

Stannis’ scream brought her back to reality and she turned her head. The sun had hit him as well, but his skin had began to burn under the touch of it. Quickly she grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to the building, where the rays had not yet reached the grass. As much fun as it was to watch him being cooked alive, she needed answers first.

“Why aren’t you burning?” he gasped, barely able to speak anymore.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Listen, you can either give me my answer now and live or continue to get on my nerves and I’ll throw you right back into the sun to be roasted. Understood?” She was running out of patience by now.

He was still hesitating, but finally he nodded slightly. “I needed someone to infiltrate the Stark family for me and since you were the first redhead that I saw, I turned you. The memories were only so you won’t go back to your old life.”

She frowned slightly. “I don’t believe you.” It was not the whole truth, she could sense that. Stannis was lying to her, and not very well.

He resisted for another couple of seconds, but then continued talking. “Davos and I visited your house the night of the turning. We-” He clenched his jaw. “killed everyone.”

For a second, her mind was not able to process the information. “What does that mean, everyone?” She was not even sure if she had said the words aloud or not.

“Your family”, Stannis growled, voice very quiet. “We killed them all.”

The world seemed to stop in that moment. Melisandre stared at him, feeling a sudden emptiness hit her out of nowhere. Looking back, she was not even sure what she had been feeling. Sadness? No. She did not even know her family anymore. Anger? No. It was more than that. _Hatred._ That came pretty close. If it had been for her, she would have thrown Stannis into the sun right now, listening to his screams with a smile on her face.

But exactly in that moment, the figure of Davos Seaworth appeared in the window frame. He was staring at Melisandre, illuminated by the sun, with wide eyes, hands shaking in shock. “You were dead”, he stuttered. “You were _dead.”_

Under normal conditions, she would have ripped his throat out that very moment. But she didn’t. Because those weren’t normal conditions. Instead she just stood up very slowly, looking at Stannis and then at Davos one last time, and then turned around and vanished.

Davos Seaworth however grabbed Stannis’ arm and pulled him back inside, hiding from the sunlight behind the thick walls of Dragonstone. “How is that possible?” he hissed at his king, his voice shaking. “You said you shot her!” Had that been a lie? Had Stannis truly lied to him?

But the king shook his head. “I did. She was dead!”

Davos felt an odd kind of fear creep up on him, the sort that made a shiver run down his spine. “And she can walk in daylight now”, he whispered, eyes glued to Stannis’ face.

Stannis looked almost sad. “And she knows the truth”, he said quietly. “About everything.” There was a moment of silence. “ _She is going to kill us all_.”

 

-

 

Melisandre opened the door to Stark mansion, listening into the house for a moment. Catelyn and Jeyne seemed to be upstairs, chatting over the latest TV show they both watched. Jon and Robb were in the kitchen, perhaps eating breakfast. As she kicked the door shut behind her, steps became audible. Even before she had properly entered, Robb had reached the hallway.

His eyes widened as he saw her. “What happened to you?” he wanted to know, obviously referring to the blood stains on her clothing and body, even though most of the glass cuts had already healed on her way back. Her ability to heal was also much faster now.

Robb sounded quite alarmed, so she smiled reassuringly. “Everything’s fine.”

Jon’s head appeared in the door frame as she spoke the words, eyes traveling up and then down her body. He did not say anything, but there was a silent question in his eyes. _Did you kill him?_ His glances were almost screaming the words. Only his lips did not move. Perhaps he did not dare to ask.

“Stannis is alive. I burned and stabbed him a little, but he’s gonna be fine.” Her eyes met Jon’s for a moment. He seemed a lot less relieved than expected. Honestly, she had no desire at all to continue the conversation, therefore she began walking over to the staircase.

But Robb held her back. “You can’t just go attack people whenever you feel like it, Melisandre. That’s not how we survive in this war!”

She turned around to face him, arms crossed in front of her chest. “Maybe I don’t want to just survive.” The words came out sharper than she had intended. She regretted them, instantly.

Robb, however, only sighed. “If you’re my ally, I need to be able to trust you.” There was a deep frown on his face and he seemed deeply worried. “I have to protect my people.”   
Of course he did. He was a king, after all, and the wolves depended on him.

“No more secrets and no more lone hands, okay?” he added. “Please.”

Melisandre felt Jon’s eyes resting on her. “Fine”, she finally agreed. “If you promise that we’ll get rid of Stannis eventually!”

Robb nodded. “Of course we will, when the time comes. He’s our enemy.” He smiled slightly. “You’ll get your revenge.”

She smiled. “Good.” Her eyes went over to Jon, who frowned as deeply as if someone had just died. “What?” she wanted to know, tilting her head a little. Her eyes were piercing through him.

Jon only shook his head, sighing. “I’m just wondering why you couldn’t have had that conversation before you went to Stannis’ this morning.”

Melisandre shrugged. “Because then I would have had a lot less fun!”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Did you get your answers at least?” It seemed as if the question had been lingering in his mind the entire time, but he had not yet dared to ask.

It took her a lot of effort to prevent looking uncomfortable. Nervously, she bit her lip. “Not yet, but I will!” She added a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it out of him eventually.”

Robb laughed a little at the words, but Jon’s frown grew deeper. He seemed suspicious, out of a sudden. He knew her too well, after all. Sometimes she wished he didn’t. “And you left without the answers? Just like that?” he tried to dig deeper.

Melisandre shifted a little, already half on the stairs. Her fingers played with the ends of her hair. “Davos came and interrupted me while I was cooking Stannis alive in the sun and that spoiled all the fun.” She shrugged.

“Sounds great”, Robb commented, before patting Jon on the shoulder and walking back into the kitchen. “Now that this is settled, I’m gonna finish my breakfast.”

Jon was still eyeing her, making her horribly uncomfortably, which was why she searched a way to relax the situation. “Stop looking so grim”, she teased him softly, slipping closer to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt the tension within his body decrease as she ran her fingers through her hair and down his neck.

“What did Stannis say regarding the fact that you’re still alive?” Jon wanted to know, placing a hand on her back and pulling her closer into his embrace.

She smiled at the words. “That I’m a bitch and he’d kill me all over if he had the chance.” Her body was leaned against his, the warmth of his skin tickled on hers.

Their eyes met for a moment, before he leaned forward and joined their lips. His tongue flicked against hers softly, teeth biting into her bottom lip.

She could not help but smile into the kiss.

“What?” he whispered, pulling back an inch so that their foreheads could touch.

Melisandre kissed him again, a gentle brush of lips against lips. “I love you”, she breathed, quietly so that Robb wouldn’t hear in the kitchen.

Jon never said a word, but his eyes told her all the truth she needed to know.

She didn’t care if love was poison, as long as it felt like this.


	39. Game of Survival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm super sorry for not updating this for so long, i'm struggling a little atm but this fic is too dear to my heart to leave it unfinished. it might take some time, but it will definitely be finished, i promise ♥

The candles in the throne room shimmered golden against the darkness, throwing dancing shadows across the floor and walls. The emeralds on Cersei’s crown and corset sparkled as she rushed towards her throne, heels clicking on the stone. It was a comforting sign, her throne, just standing there and waiting for her. She smiled as she looked at it, feeling every inch the queen she was. _If it is battlefields they want, battlefields I shall give them._ And that was precisely what she was planning to do.

Cersei turned around as the doors to the room opened and someone stepped it, steps echoing loudly from the walls.

Sansa Stark looked lovely, wearing a pale purple gown and having her hair tightly braided. Her eyes seemed to search the room for something, but never finding it. She was never sure what she was looking for. Her skin was soft and pale, but never as pale as a vampire’s. Her heart was beating quickly, every breath she took seemed to echo through the entire room. “Your Grace”, she greeted politely, making a small courtesy. Her manners were excellent, Cersei had to give her as much.

“Sansa, my dear”, she returned the greeting, walking towards the little wolf.

The girl smiled softly. “I just talked with Joffrey on the phone, he enjoys Lannisport quite a lot! And he said he misses me.”

Cersei smiled, never giving away what she was really thinking. _What an excellent match she had gotten for her son._ Sansa was all sweet and naive, and Joffrey was indeed quite taken with her. He liked her a lot, as much as he had told her, and Sansa seemed to return the feelings. _Perfect._ “Have you spoken to your brothers, too, recently?” she now asked the girl, careful to hide her true intentions behind a layer of polite interest.

Sansa frowned. “I haven’t, your Grace, why?”

“No reason, really. I just though you would maybe miss them, and perhaps like to visit them sometime?” She smiled a reassuring smile. “Now that Joffrey is gone, you must be terribly bored all day.”

The girl seemed to consider her words for a moment. “I’m not, your Grace, but I’d still love to see them again. My mother, especially.”

She really was very well trained, every word carefully chosen. Cersei was wondering whether she had learned all that politeness from Catelyn Stark. That woman had never seemed like the right type. Not that it mattered, anyway. “Has Joffrey told you what he is doing in Lannisport?” she now changed the topic, taking Sansa’s hand and leading her towards the throne.

“He only said he had business to attend. Important business”, Sansa replied, eyes traveling restlessly over the throne. Perhaps she was imagining herself sitting it, Joffrey by her side. Cersei could never know, even though she was good at reading people. The girl never seemed to really take any interest in being queen, but that might all be a well-played act. Who could know.

“He’s with my father, overseeing the building of my second army”, she answered, stopping in front of the steps with lead up to her throne. The gold was glowing in the dim light, a thousand candles seemed to light it all at once. _Gold had always been her color._

Sansa shifted next to her. “Second army?” she repeated, as if she didn’t clearly understand the meaning of the words. “What do you need one for?”

Cersei smiled, knowingly. “Everyone who isn’t us is an enemy. You do best to remember that, my dear.” She looked at the girl now, Sansa’s eyes watching her hesitantly. “And I intend to keep that throne I am sitting on.”

Sansa nodded slowly. Her eyes switched between the Queen and her throne. “Will Joffrey be king one day?” she asked, more quiet than before. As if she was fearing the answer.

“Yes”, Cersei replied, considering her words. “And then you’ll be queen.” She put an arm around the girl, leading her way back towards the doors. “But that won’t happen for some time, so don’t worry about it. Go see your mother and tell her about your new life.”

Sansa smiled warmly. “Thank you, your Grace”, she said politely and made another courtesy, before turning around and leaving the throne room with quick steps. They faded away into the distance of the castle as she hurried upstairs to her rooms.

Cersei stayed behind, smiling to herself. She had said the stones into motion, now all she needed to do was wait for the events to play out. She was going to win this war. She was going to win, _and Sansa Stark would play her role just well enough._

 

-

 

Jon sighed as the doorbell rang. It was just after eleven in the morning, and he was seated at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Robb was sitting next to him, currently covering his toast in three layers of butter and jam. Jeyne and Catelyn had left early to go shopping in the city and Jeyne had asked Melisandre to come with them, but she had politely declined. So now she was seated on the kitchen counter, legs crossed and playing with her hair. She jumped at the sound of the doorbell, getting up and leaving the room to open.

“Who comes visit at this time of day?” Robb muttered, while sipping his still steaming hot coffee.

Jon only shrugged, listening in to the sounds in the hallway. He heard Melisandre opening the door, greeting someone and welcoming them inside. Steps, the wooden floor aching, the front door closing.

Only moments later Sansa stood in the door frame. “Good morning!” she greeted, a smile on her lips which were covered in nude lipgloss. She was wearing a plaid trenchcoat over a pale purple dress, which looked much more princess than college student.

“Sansa”, Robb replied in surprise, standing up to give her a quick hug. “Why didn’t you call?”

Their sister smiled, stepping out of the door to let Melisandre slip back inside and take her usual place on the counter. “I wanted to surprise you. Mother, especially. But she isn’t here, right? I didn’t see her car outside.” Carefully, she sat down across the table.

“She’s out in town, but she’ll be back in the afternoon, probably”, Jon replied, as Robb was busy burning his lips on the coffee.

He grumbled in response, letting the cup fall back onto the table as he was cursing insults. “How’s life in the castle?” he now wanted to know, leaning back in his chair and deciding to let the coffee cool down for a few more minutes.

Sansa’s face seemed to lighten up. “It is wonderful!” she exclaimed, smiling brightly. “I am having so much fun. And Joffrey is wonderful. Even though he is out of town at the moment”, she added.

Jon and Robb exchanged a quick look. Something about that sounded not quite right. Suspicious, maybe even.

“What do you mean, out of town?” Robb asked carefully.

His sister did not seem to notice the sudden tension behind the words. “He’s with his grandfather, in Lannisport.”

Jon frowned. “Why that?” he followed up, hoping that Sansa would not grow suspicious. She had to know where her loyalties lied, though. _Or did she?_

His sister was quiet for a second, eyes traveling from Jon to Robb. “Did I say anything wrong?”

Robb smiled reassuring. “No, you haven’t. We’re just wondering why your new husband isn’t with you but out of town.” He was lying, clearly, but Sansa did not need to know that. It would only make her sad, or confused, or both.

“Cersei said he’s overseeing the constructing of a new Lannister army, a second one. She said she needed it to keep her throne.” Sansa smiled weakly, now looking over to Melisandre for the first time, as if she had not even noticed her before. Something went through her eyes, like a notion of something not quite there. Then her eyes were back on Robb, as if she was considering her staring impolite.

But her words sounded quite alarming in Jon’s ears. _A second Lannister army._ Cersei had not mentioned that to them in one word. Why did she need another one? She had the wolves now, all of their forces. That was more than enough to beat Stannis. _Unless it wasn’t about Stannis anymore._ He looked over to his brother, wondering if he was thinking the same. It seemed that he did.

“Sansa”, Robb broke the silence. “Why don’t you call mother and meet up with her in town? I’m sure that’s going to be much more interesting than sitting here with us!”

His sister looked confused for a moment, but then she nodded. “You’re right, I’d very much like to meet with mother.” She smiled softly, before reaching for her phone and getting up from her chair. If she was upset about Robb basically throwing her out, she never showed it. “It was lovely to see you again.” She hugged Robb again, waved goodbye quickly and then left as quickly as she had came.

As soon as the door fell shut behind her, Melisandre jumped from the counter. “That was not very nice of you, sending her away like this. She’s cute”, she commented, leaning backwards against the door frame. “But the two of you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Jon was not in the mood for joking, so he only rolled his eyes at her.

Robb frowned deeply, starring into his coffee cup as if he was trying to read the future from the brown liquid. “Cersei is building a second army. That’s what Tywin has been doing all this time”, he concluded. “And she actively kept it from us.”

“She didn’t”, Melisandre disagreed.

Jon looked over to her, frowning. “What do you mean? She never told us about that, which means she kept it a secret. Probably meaning to use it against us at some point.”

“Great ally”, Robb commented dimly, taking a sip of coffee as if that would better the situation in any way.

But Melisandre shook her head. “You really think Cersei is stupid? She told Sansa about it, the same day she comes here to visit you. She obviously planned to let you know today.” She shrugged. “She’s quite clever, if you ask me.”

Melisandre’s admiration for Cersei Lannister’s ruling skills was entirely new to him, but Jon did not plan to elaborate on it right now. It did not make any sense, anyway. Why would Cersei want them to know about her betraying them? “She’ll use us for destroying Stannis and then sends her second army after us”, Jon concluded. The facts were clear. “It was all a trap.”

“Might be”, Melisandre replied dryly. “Or perhaps you’re running into a trap right now, believing what she told Sansa was true.” She twisted a scarlet brand of hair around her finger. “She’d never tell secret information to Sansa, the woman is not totally dumb.”

Robb looked from Jon to Melisandre, and from her back to him. “So what do we do? Wait and see how it all turns out, if we’re all doomed to die or lucky enough to survive?” The sarcasm did not suit him very well.

“Perhaps it’s not even that big of a deal”, Melisandre tried again. “Just go to Cersei and ask her about it.”

Jon shook his head. “It might bring Sansa in trouble, no. Besides we would show her our hand.” He looked over to her. “We have to keep this a secret, be one step ahead of her.”

She only rolled her eyes. “Sansa’s going to tell her anyway. The girl is totally in awe of Cersei Lannister, the woman is like her idol or something.” She sounded like the conversation was entirely boring to her. “Apart from that, I though she’s your ally. You’re talking like she’s your enemy.”

“Maybe she is”, Robb muttered quietly. “I just don’t know what we’re going to do about it.”

The kitchen fell silent for a few seconds.

“You should wait”, Melisandre finally said. “The army isn’t complete anyway, so no need to worry right now.” She shrugged. “Just use her to get rid of Stannis.” There was something in her eyes when mentioning her name, it almost seemed as if they grew darker.

He needed to keep an eye on her, Jon thought to himself. Letting her run at Stannis head first was probably a bad idea, even considering her new found powers. _Powers she still hadn’t told him about._ Deep inside of him, he was still mad about that. Didn’t she trust him, still, after everything that had happened? He could never know, never be certain with her anymore.

Robb’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Or maybe we should not get rid of Stannis just now.” The words hang in the air for a moment, as everyone seemed to consider them.

“What do you mean?” Jon asked slowly. It did not make sense to him. They were sworn to Cersei now.

His brother shrugged. “Perhaps we should do what she least expects. _Betray her back._ ”  
Again, Jon did not understand.

Melisandre, however, seemed to understand just fine. “No way”, she replied. “No way.”

Robb remained silent, sipping his coffee even though it appeared to be empty by now.

Slowly, things began to make sense to Jon. “You want to go back to Stannis”, he concluded.

“I already bowed to Cersei, doesn’t matter if I do it again to Stannis, does it? I’m not king in the north anymore, anyway.” The words sounded bitter on his tongue. “Cersei Lannister cut father’s head off. I’d like to return the favor some day.”

Jon looked over to Melisandre, who seemed as if she was going to explode any moment.

“Stannis _murdered_ me”, she hissed, looking in between the two brothers as if she could not believe how they could even consider such a thing. Her voice was shaking with anger.

Robb sighed. “Cersei would murder you too, if given the chance. Not that much of a difference.”   
  
Melisandre’s red eyes were sparkling flames, burning with rage. “She did not pretend to care about me first!” There it was, the hurt. Right after she had spoken the words, she seemed to regret them.

Jon could see it all over her face. And he felt the familiar jealousy. Had she really cared that much about Stannis, still?

“I can’t consider your personal feelings or revenge or whatever in my decision”, Robb argued, obviously trying to make her understand. Little did he know about arguing with Melisandre, or making her understand.

“I will not make peace with Stannis!” She shook her head, as if trying to undermine her point. Her eyes went to Jon for help, again and again. She expected him to say something, almost begged him to intervene.

But he had nothing to offer. Going to Stannis seemed to be logical, putting his personal hate for the man aside.

“When Cersei is out of the picture, I’ll gladly let you skin Stannis alive”, Robb offered, a last attempt to make her understand.

Melisandre’s face was frozen when she answered. “It’s going to be too late then.” Her voice almost broke, as if she was going to start crying. She sounded defeated.

“I’d rather have Stannis king than all my people dead. I don’t care who sits this throne”, Robb answered quietly.

Melisandre pressed her lips together. “You don’t understand.” She looked over to Jon. “It’s all a trick, don’t you see it? You’re running into a trap, head first. _Again._ The last time you did two people, including me, were murdered.” There was a pause following the words. “Cersei is going to win, no matter what you do. You don’t stand a chance against her.”

Robb frowned at the words. “You don’t know that.”   
  
There was something in her eyes, a hidden shadow behind the red iris. As if she knew more than she said, but was holding back. “I do know”, she snapped back. “But you won’t listen to me anyway.” With those words, she turned around and left the kitchen, the clicking of heels echoing through the house.

“Don’t let her leave”, Robb instructed quickly. “She can’t go after Stannis now.”

Jon hurried into the hallway, blocking the door just before Melisandre could reach it. “Where are you going?” he insisted.

She stopped in front of him, looking at him like he had just betrayed her. Which he had, perhaps. But he just could not let her leave right now. Not in the mood she was in. “I’m not your prisoner.”

He smiled weakly. “I know. I’m just trying to protect you from yourself.” He reached for her hands, surprised that she did not pull back. “You don’t think I hate Stannis as much as you do?” He had taken her from him, after all. Jon had not forgotten that, even though Melisandre had come back. _Or had she?_ Sometimes he still doubted that. Something about her was different, something he could neither pinpoint nor explain.

There was hesitation in her eyes. “I don’t feel like you do”, she replied finally. “Otherwise you wouldn’t want to ally with him again.”

“This is not about what I want, or you, or anyone. It’s about surviving this war.” He tried to make her understand, although he knew that he probably couldn’t. Melisandre had her own mind.

Her eyes turned almost sad at the words. “Stannis is not going to be king. Believe me, I know”, she urged again. “This city is going to have a queen sitting on the throne when this war is over.”

“You can’t know”, Jon disagreed. There was no way one could now.

There was an odd certainty in her face. “I can. I’ve seen it all. Do you want me to show you?”

 


	40. The High Priestess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains a lot of tarot references; if something is unclear, feel free to ask me in the comments and / or google it yourself. i do tarot myself but am not an expert so forgive me if not everything is completely thought - through and perfect. i hope you liked this chapter ♥

Jon followed Melisandre upstairs, his fingers intertwined with hers. She was almost dragging him up, as if they were suddenly running out of time. He was still hesitating, not sure what to make of her words. Actually, he did not believe in visions or prophecies or whatever. He never had. But Melisandre seemed utterly convinced, so he at least wanted to listen to what she had to say. He still had no idea what had happened to her during the two missing days, and perhaps he could find out something about that right now.

Upstairs, she lead him into the room next to their bedroom. A silent fire was cracking in the fireplace and some candles were placed on the small table which was standing in the middle of the room.

“Since when do vampires like fire?” Jon commented on the odd situation, as he closed the door behind himself. The air inside was thick and warm, and everything smelled of candle wax and burned wood.

Melisandre shrugged. “I’m not a vampire anymore, so who cares?” She knelt down in front of the table, signaling him to do the same. “Come on, don’t be shy.” She smiled a little, almost teasingly.

Jon sat down next to her, still not completely convinced that all of this made any sense. “When did you set all of this up?” he wanted to know, looking around.

“Last night when you were asleep”, she replied. “I get terribly bored, you know.”

He laughed a little. “Sorry about that.”

Melisandre now put a small box onto the table, opened it and emptied it. An array of cards fell onto the wood, all covered in symbols and pictures. One card caught Jon’s eye in particular, two people standing below a god-like figure flaunting in the sky. He reached for it, turning it in his hands. In the candlelight, the figures looked oddly twisted.

“The lovers”, Melisandre commented, without even looking, while she shuffled the rest of the deck in her hands.

Jon frowned, still fixated on the card in his hands. _The lovers._ He was not sure why he had chosen it at random, but now that he had heard its name, it seemed fitting. Still, tarot was no magic and there was no way to look into the future. Especially not with a deck of cards. “You don’t really believe in this, do you?” he wanted to know. The card was still in his hands. He didn’t want to let it go, for some reason. Perhaps it called for him.

Melisandre smiled mildly. “Wait and see.” She scattered the cards across the table, face down. “Draw a card”, she instructed him. “They will tell you all you need to know, trust me.”

 _Trust her._ Sometimes Jon felt like that was an impossible thing to do. One could never know with Melisandre, not even after knowing her as long and as well as he did by now. He loved her, loved her more than he could ever have imagined, but there were doubts. Heavy doubts. Still, he reached out and drew a card. As he turned it around, he was not sure why he had chosen it. If there had even been a reason.

Melisandre, however, did not seem surprised at all at his choice. The empress laid in front of them, the silver writing shimmering in the light of the candles. “See?” she commented. “It’s all in the cards.”

This time, it was her who was drawing cards. One after the other she turned them around and formed a row, unfamiliar pictures glaring at Jon. He did not understand. _The devil. The tower. The wheel of fortune. The hanged man._ He read the words below the cards, but did not know their meaning.

Only as Melisandre turned around the last card, it made sense. _Death._ The skeleton man on his horse seemed even more frightening in the candle light, more hollow and dark.

A heavy silence filled the room. “What do the cards mean?” Jon eventually dared to ask, fearing the answer. The room seemed to have grown colder, the fire almost dying in the fireplace.

Next to him, Melisandre shifted uncomfortably. “They keep reappearing, all of them. Whenever I lay them out, the same five cards.” Her voice sounded dry. “And they all speak of the same thing.” There was a pause. “War.”

Jon took a deep breath. Actually, he did not believe in such things. They were just cards, after all. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t witchcraft. Just plain cards, bearing symbols and letters.

“The tower”, Melisandre began, picking the card up and turning it in her hands. “It speaks of disaster, destruction.”

On the card, the tower was burning. A shadow flashed across the picture, and for a swift second it looked like Cersei’s castle. Then it was gone. And it was just an image, drawn by some human painter long ago.  
Melisandre picked up another card, the first one she had laid out. It looked similar Jon’s card, but this time the two lovers were standing below the devil. “Detachment”, Melisandre commented. “Evil. Bondage.” She put it down quickly, as if she did not wish to touch it any longer. As if the paper would leave stains on her white skin.

The next card seemed friendlier, a wheel surrounded by alien looking symbols. “The wheel of fortune”, Jon read out loud.

Melisandre nodded. “It means destiny. A turning point. A decision which needs to be taken.” She looked over to him for a moment. “I can’t quite say if it’s meant to be a positive or negative force. The decision is not yet final.”

“You’re referring to Robb”, Jon concluded. “You mean his decision is going to lead us into war.” His eyes traveled to the next card. _The hanged man._

Melisandre followed his eyes, taking the card into her hand. “Sacrifice. Martyrdom.” The silver letters seemed to glow. “I often lay it out together with another card, but that one hasn’t appeared today.” She reached into the deck, hesitating for a moment, but then pulling a very specific card out. “Judgment”, Melisandre read. “They go together, in some way, I just can’t figure out how.”

“So someone is going to be judged and someone is going to be sacrificed?” Jon tried to make sense of it, but he felt like he failed. Who believes in card tricks, anyway?

Melisandre considered his words. “Or will sacrifice themselves”, she added. For a second, she seemed like wanting to say something else, but held back. Then it was gone, and her eyes were back on the deck. One last card remained untouched, the man on the horse seeming to mock Jon. _Death._ He did not even dare to touch it, just look at it from safe distance.

“It is always the last card I draw”, Melisandre explained. “Whatever I do, I can’t escape it. It seems to follow me like a shadow.” She picked it up, turning the card around in her fingers. “Strange, isn’t it? Since I have been dead before.”

Jon didn’t like this at all, if he was honest. He felt almost uncomfortable, or scared, or whatever one might name the feeling. A shiver crept across his back. Suddenly, he felt the urge to get up. With his movement, a single card fell from the table and landed on the floor face down.

 _The lovers_ was still laying on the table, distant from the other cards.

Melisandre’s eyes followed him, as he walked through the room away from the table. Strangely, he felt like the cards were haunting him, the dead eyes of the man on the horse still fixated on him. _They were just cards,_ Jon told himself. Nothing more.

“You don’t believe me”, Melisandre said into the silence. It was no more than a cold stated fact, but she seemed genuinely hurt. But her tone was not accusing. Slowly she got up, leaving the cards on the table.

Jon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They are just cards”, he replied. “Tarot does not hold any magic, or power. It is just luck which one you are drawing.”

She frowned at him. “Do you really think that?” Now she sounded almost disappointed.

He looked at her, wondering where all those sudden revelations came from. Since when did she believe in those kind of things? “What happened in those two missing days?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them, hanging in the air between them for a few seconds.

Melisandre’s expression was frozen solid, never telling what she was thinking. Sometimes he hated her for that. _Sometimes he wished to truly hate her._

“I went to the woman who took my memories away.”

It was an honest answer, more honest than he would have expected. For a moment he was too surprised to answer. “Why?” was the only thing he could think of to say.

She seemed to search for the right words, an explanation which would make sense. Only that there wasn’t one, in all honesty. “When I died, I regained my memories. Or parts of it. And one of the last things I was able to see was the woman who took my memory. So I went there to speak with her.” She explained it perfectly reasonable, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

However, to Jon it was not normal at all. “You regained your memory and never told me? Went to this woman without even speaking to me?” He felt almost betrayed. “I thought you were _dead._ Do you have any idea how scared I was?” The words almost didn’t leave his lips. “I thought I lost you.”

Melisandre’s red eyes were full of sorrow. “I was scared, too”, she said quietly. “I didn’t know what happened, I was confused, I felt-” she broke off. “I still feel that way. Like I don’t belong anymore. Like I don’t know what or who I am.” It was hard to see in the dim candlelight, but it seemed like she was crying.

Carefully he approached her, running a finger over her cheek. It was wet with tears. He had never meant to make her cry. But he needed to know the truth. “What did she tell you?” he wanted to know, watching her bite her lip uncomfortably.

“You won’t believe me anyway, so where’s the point?” she asked silently, wiping the tears away quickly.

Jon sighed. “Try me.” He reached for her waist as she tried to pull away, drawing her closer. Her hair smelled of perfume and fire wood.

Melisandre looked up into his eyes, searching for something within the gray. He was not certain if she ever found it. “She showed me a vision. The same thing I see when I read the tarot cards.”

It all sounded like a terribly made up story, and Jon was not sure if he was supposed to believe her. Visions did not exist. And neither did fortune tellers.

“She showed me the war which is going to come, the destruction of the city. Cersei’s castle burning to the ground. And a queen, ruling the city by the end of it.” There was a short pause. “Cersei is going to win”, she urged once more. “You need her to back you up.”

It was tedious to argue with her, still it seemed hard to make up such a story. Perhaps she even believed it herself. “There is no such thing as visions”, Jon argued. He tried to make his voice sound soft. Carefully he ran a hand through her hair, scarlet strands curling around his fingers.

Melisandre closed her eyes for a moment, as if she was trying to collect herself. “I told you you won’t believe me”, she muttered.

In that moment, she looked so fragile as Jon had never seen her before. _What had he done to her, the moment he had bitten her?_ Was she really suffering that much, just hiding it too well? He put his arms around her, drawing her closer into his embrace. Gently, he pressed a kiss onto her head.

She leaned against him, fingers curling up into the fabric of his shirt, as if she needed to hold onto him.

“I love you”, he breathed into her hair. “And I know exactly who you are and where you belong.” At least he thought he did.

Melisandre withdrew a little, only enough to wrap her arms around his neck and join their lips in a kiss, tongue flicking into his mouth. It felt almost desperate, the way she was pressing her body against his. Like he needed to save her from drowning.

Her eyes never left him as he interrupted the kiss, pulling back and striking a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” It was a serious statement, since he was truly worried what she might do if Robb went through with his plan and went to Stannis for an alliance. All that talk of prophecies and visions, but the end result was all the same. Melisandre wanted Stannis dead, flayed alive if possible.

She remained silent for a moment. “He needs to die”, she eventually said. “And I want to do it myself. I want him to feel the same way I did.” There was a darkness in her eyes, one Jon had only seldom seen. He was not going to be stupid enough and stand between her and Stannis.

“We just need some time”, he insisted. “You will get your moment.”

She only shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way”, she simply said, choosing not to elaborate on what she meant with those words.

Jon would have asked, but a knock on the door interrupted him. “Jon?” Robb’s voice echoed across the hallway. “Can we have a quick talk?”

He sighed, letting go of Melisandre. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
“Sure”, she muttered, looking half sad and half disappointed. Jon was not sure which of the two made his heart ache more.

Melisandre turned around as he left the room, noticing the one card laying on the floor. Carefully she picked it up, turning it around in her hands. The woman on the card looked almost judging, eyes seeming to pierce through her skin.

 _The High Priestess._ And suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place. Every card she had ever drawn, ever questioned. All the things which had not made sense before, made sense.

Melisandre looked up, finding the wheel of fortune. The wheel had been spun, the decision was final. Robb had made his decision. He was going to ally with Stannis.

She felt a strange finality, as she turned _the High Priestess_ in between her fingers. Now she knew exactly what to do.

 


	41. Ceremonials

Robb and Jon set up at dusk to leave the house, making their way to Stannis’ mansion. Jon felt terrible when his brother started the car, the engine roaring loudly through the night. Melisandre had set off to go hunting, and he had not told her where the two of them would go. He had been too afraid of her reaction. Besides, he felt like they were finally in a place where they were doing good, so he didn’t want to ruin it. Keep the illusion up for a little longer, even if only a few days. Still, he was anxious to visit Stannis. He hated that man, too, after all. Every dream of his was haunted by that one night at his house, the shot, the blood, Melisandre’s body heavy in his arms. _He had let her die._ Some days, the guilt seemed to swallow him. Especially after she had told her how hard it had been for her. He had never considered that before, if being honest, and felt terrible at the thought. Was he really so selfish? Of course it must be difficult for her, and he had no idea what she felt like truly, after all.

“Do you think he will even let us inside?” Robb asked into the silence, eyes fixed on the dark road. The light of the car seemed dim compared to the vast black around them, the street only partly illuminated.

Jon shrugged. “We’ll find out for sure.”

His brother looked at him for a spare second. “You won’t jump at his throat, will you?” It was a legitimate question. “He killed Melisandre, after all. Or tried to.”

He clenched his jaw. “I won’t”, he replied dryly. Still he hoped, someday, Melisandre would get the pleasure to return the favor. Then he would gladly stand by and watch.

Robb seemed to notice his grim stare. “I need to be able to trust you. If you can’t control yourself, you can’t come with me.”

“I’m good”, Jon lied. “I don’t have Melisandre’s bad temper.”

His brother smiled. “When it comes to protecting her, you do. You’d gladly kill for her.” It was an observation he had made long ago, but never spoken out loud.

Jon leaned his head against the window, thinking about the words. It was true, perhaps. Losing her had shown him how much she really meant to him, to what lengths he would go in order to protect her. “I love her”, was all he said. “You’d do it for Jeyne, too.”

Robb sighed. “I would.” He steered the car into the driveway in front of Dragonstone, the house laying dark and silent. No window was illuminated, it all seemed lost and deserted. Which it wasn’t, of course. As he turned the engine off, all sounds died for a split second. “What are we supposed to do?” Robb asked into the sudden silence. “Just ring the doorbell?”

Jon shrugged, opening his door and climbing out of the car. “I guess so.” He looked around him, through the darkness. The moon was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, the air smelled like rain. The wind was cold and tearing at his jacket, making him shiver slightly. Winter seemed to be coming indeed. It was almost November.

Robb walked ahead to the gates, stopping in front of them for a moment. There was no bell, no nothing. But the moment he had stopped walking, they swung open all the same. “Great”, he commented, waiting for Jon to catch up with him before walking inside.

They walked over to the house, climbing up the stairs which lead to the huge wooden front door. Once again, it opened by itself. “Fancy”, Robb muttered, hesitating a second before setting foot inside the mention.

The inside of Dragonstone was entirely dark apart for a few lone candles on the walls, shadows creeping down the long hallways which lead to different parts of the house. No one was in sight, even though Jon felt as if being watched. As he glanced into one of the corners, he almost had the impression as if someone was hiding in there. He never went and checked, though.

“Where should we go?” Robb asked silently, every sounds seeming too loud in the silence.

Suddenly, Jon recalled something form his distant memory, as if his mind was suddenly opening up. “The library”, he answered. “This way.” He walked down the hallway which lead to the back of the building, the feeling of déjà-vu creeping up his back.

They found the room relatively easily, Jon’s feet almost knowing the way by itself. The smell of old books and candle wax was thick in the air, and something else, too. Blood. Of course.

Stannis was awaiting them in the room, leaned against the wooden table which filled the majority of the space. His eyes were dark red and sparkling, a cup in his hands which he slowly turned around itself. A book was next to him, opened in the middle.

Right as Jon entered, the wooden floor seemed to scream of blood. The smell never left his nose.

“What an interesting surprise”, Stannis mused, taking a sip from his cup. His teeth sparked bright white in the dim light.

Robb shot Jon a quick look. Almost like a warning. “Good evening”, he greeted politely.

Jon stayed silent, never taking his eyes of Stannis.

He returned the look with a stern expression. “Your wife visited me recently.” There was a short pause. “Funny, since I recalled I send her to hell the last time we saw each other.”

To Jon, that was not worth of an answer.

Quickly, his brother interfered. “We are here to talk of alliances.”

Stannis frowned. “Even funny because we used to have an alliance, until you broke it.” He smiled. “ _King in the north.”_

“I don’t wear that title anymore”, Robb simply said. “I am willing to bend the knee.”

This seemed to surprise Stannis, since he did not have an answer ready. “The same way you bowed to Cersei Lannister?” he finally asked. “Does she know about this?”

Robb shook his head. “She does not. And she won’t, at any point. This is between you and us.”

Slowly, Stannis placed the cup on the table. “You plan on betraying her, interesting. For what reason?”

“Reasons which are my own”, Robb replied, careful of what to say. “I see you to be the more fit candidate for the throne. And I only want the best for my people.”

A silence followed the words. Stannis seemed to consider. “Your sister married Cersei’s heir.”

Robb shifted a little. “We’ll find a solution for that when the time comes”, he said diplomatically. Never giving away too much.

Stannis sighed. “Not that I care, anyway.” His eyes were back on Jon. “What I care about is that little wife of yours, and what you have turned her into. She almost ripped the skin of my bones the last time I saw her.” He smiled, almost amused. “Temper was never her strength. She has other skills, I’m sure your aware of.”

He was meaning to provoke Jon, obviously, and somehow it did work. He was almost willing to give an answer, but then held back.

“What did you do to her?” Stannis asked again, this time more firm.

Robb looked over to Jon, nodding slightly.

Jon hesitated. Actually, he did not mean to share that particular information. “I bit her”, he eventually replied.

There was something in Stannis’ eyes he could not quite catch, something like a silent confirmation what he had already expected to hear. “Interesting”, he mused quietly. “Very interesting. And that made her able to walk in sunlight?”

“Yes”, Jon said shortly. That was all he was willing to say.

Stannis smiled ever so slightly. “I want her used against Cersei. If I’ll accept your alliance, I want her powers. All of them, whatever they might be. I’m sure you know all about it.”

Jon pressed his jaw together so hardly it hurt. “No”, he disagreed. “She’s not a weapon.”

The king shrugged. “She is, and you know that as well as I do. She always has been, now she just happens to be one of the strongest creatures alive. It be a pity to waste that all.” He eyed Jon for a moment. “You really have no idea what hybrids can do, have you?”

Robb looked over to his brother, half confused.

Stannis laughed a little, reaching for the book on the table. “Never touched a book, any of you, I assume.” His eyes traveled over the page for a brisk second. “Hybrids have been used in war for centuries, just normally they are little children. They are more strong than any vampire, can endure injuries and need less blood than any of them. They are the perfect soldiers. And I happened to train Melisandre just perfectly for combat.”

“She is not part of the deal”, Jon argued again. Helplessly, he looked over to his brother.

Stannis put the book down. “She is now. Her against Cersei, or I won’t agree. I don’t need any of your wolves. I need _her._ She’s worth a thousand wolf armies.”

Jon swallowed hard. He wondered if she knew about any of that. Had she just failed to mentioned it? Held it back intentionally, even? Honestly, both seemed equally of a possibility.

To his surprise, Robb took the word. “Fine”, he replied. “She’ll help.”

Jon stared at him in disbelief. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

His brother turned around to him. “We have no choice, I’m sorry.” He looked awfully sad. “You’ll need to convince her somehow.”

Jon shook his head. That was an impossible task, truly. She would never agree, and she would be right to do so. He could persuade her all he wanted, he’d never get her to do it. And he didn’t want to, either. She was no weapon, not to him.

“I’m glad you agree”, Stannis smiled, looking pleased with himself. “We have a deal, then. The details are for another night, then.” His red eyes sparkled in amusement. “Bring Melisandre.”

Jon would have gladly ripped out his throat that very moment, but instead he only remained utterly silent. He had nothing left to say. This was not right, none of it. The tarot card sparked his memory, the skeleton on the horse haunting his mind. _It is always the last card I draw,_ Melisandre had said. Somehow, it seemed like a strange forecast of what to come. Death. Destruction. War. All the things the cards had told them.

For a second, he considered telling Robb about it. Warning him. Then again, they were only cards. Stories spun in Melisandre’s imagination, the confusion she had felt after waking up half vampire half wolf. Had she ever really spoken to that woman? It might have all been a dream of hers, a delusion she was not aware of. _They are only cards,_ he kept telling himself. They had no power to change the future. They were not magic, if that even existed.

As they turned around to take their leave, some of the candles were blown out by the movement. In the dim light, Stannis’ eyes glowed as red as the devil’s. A shiver ran down Jon’s back.

 

-

 

It was pitch black when Melisandre left the Stark’s house, telling Jon something about wanting to go hunting just to get away quietly. She was aware him and Robb were going to make their way over to Stannis, only did they think she didn’t know. _If only they listened to her once…_ They always made the wrong decisions.

The air smelled like rain when she left, a thick layer of dark clouds already covering most of the night sky. A thunderstorm was coming. An array of birds flew above her head, screaming into the silence. It was a soothing sounds. Somewhere an owl went for a hunt, killing a mouse and ripping it into. Blood spilled on the earth.

Cersei’s castle was hard to miss, even from a distance. The towers went high in the air, the red keep shimmering scarlet even with the lack of moonlight. Its color reminded one of blood.

As she set her eyes on the building, the tarot cards swept back into her mind. _Destruction._ She saw it burning, flames licking the stones. The throne of shadows melting to liquid gold. Someone screamed. The walls collapsing, the roof crashing down. _Death._ Wolves and vampires alike, dead bodies covering the ground. It was all going to end here.

Melisandre shook her head, as if it would make the visions go away. She had been carrying them around since her rebirth, never knowing what they truly meant. Now she did. Everything made sense now. The wheel had been spun. There was no going back now.

She chose to enter the castle from the roof, climbing along the spikes of the smallest tower searching for a window or a door. As she finally discovered one, she smashed the glass and jumped inside, finding herself in an abandoned hallway. A small set of stairs led downstairs and she quickly followed them, not even caring much where they might lead. Actually, she had not thought any of this through very much.

How was she even going to find Cersei in a building this big? For a second, she hesitated and stopped walking. She listened into the silence, trying to concentrate on the distinct voices she could hear more and more from where ever inside the castle.

Cersei was not one of them, but she did spot Sansa Stark. She appeared to be in this very tower, currently speaking to her new husband on the phone. Melisandre could hear the excitement in her voice as she talked about her day. Jon and Robb were wrong to treat her like this. When they allied against Cersei, she was going to use Sansa against them. It was the only smart thing to do. How could they be so stupid? The girl was only barely an adult, 18 years old. Melisandre felt awfully sorry for her.

Next, Jaime Lannister’s voice was audible from the other end of the building. _There you are, Cersei._ She smiled, hurrying downstairs and following an endless seeming hallway down to the other side of the castle. She met no one on her way, which made her feel almost a little disappointed. She could have loved to have a little fist fight.

The queen’s room appeared to be on the second floor, Melisandre could hear Jaime Lannister pacing inside. Without thinking about it any further, she knocked on the door. For a moment, all sounds died. There was no answer, no indication that they had even heard her. Melisandre rolled her eyes, muttering “rude” so herself and just pushed the door open.

Cersei Lannister was standing with her back to the door, looking outside the window and starring at the horizon. Now she turned around, golden curls swirling around her. An amused smile formed on her lips. “Oh”, she exclaimed, looking over to her twin who was sitting in a chair not far away. “What an interesting turn of events.”

Jaime Lannister’s expression was frozen, and he never showed any reaction. He did not seem to share his sister’s enthusiasm.

“You’re quite clever”, Melisandre noted, closing the door behind her. “The way you lured me here was truly impressive. For a second I even thought it was my idea.” Actually, she had not noticed the true depth of Cersei’s plan until she had looked into the queen’s eyes this very moment. But now she understood.

Cersei only smiled, acting like she didn’t know what was going on. One of her specialties, if one might say so. “Thanks for the compliment, but I don’t think I deserve it”, she replied, purring herself a glass of blood. She never offered Jaime one, but reached for another one to hand to Melisandre. “I had no idea you were coming.” The lie came easy across her lips.

“You sent Sansa to the Stark’s, knowing she would reveal your second army to them without thinking about it. Then you hoped the two of them would go to Stannis, allying with them.”

Cersei’s eyes were red ice, never showing what she was thinking. “Perhaps”, she only answered.

Melisandre smiled, spinning the glass inside her hands. “But you also knew about my history with Stannis, so you were hoping that I might come here tonight and propose an alliance myself.” It was the icing on the cake, the last perfect piece of the puzzle.

The queen shrugged. “Perhaps”, she repeated. For a moment, she glanced over to her brother. “Worked out rather well, didn’t it?”

Melisandre pressed her lips together. She was _not_ betraying the Starks right now. If anything, they were betraying her. She was simply trying to help. Save their lives, possibly. To whatever extent she could. “I only want them to be safe”, she eventually replied. “I’m not doing this for you.”   
Somehow, this seemed to amuse the queen even more. “Wow, the monster has a heart”, she commented, taking a sip of blood. “That boy really made you weak.”

It took Melisandre quite some effort to stay calm, control her temper. After the transformation, she felt like it had become even harder. “When the Starks ally with Stannis and march on this castle, I want them to not be hurt. Take them captive if you must, but I want them to be fine.” That was perhaps the only way to keep them safe. Take them away from the fight. She carefully watched Cersei’s expression. “All of them.” _They were going to hate her._ Then again, she only did what they did. They had gone to Stannis first. She was only trying to make all of this right again.

Cersei only shrugged at the words. “Sure.” She seemed awfully bored. “But you’re going to do something in return for me, naturally.”

Melisandre nodded. “I’ll gladly rip Stannis apart for you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The queen smiled. “I like you. You have the right attitude.” She put her glass down, pouring more blood inside. The red liquid gleamed in the candle light. Outside, the first thunder growled. “I want his army gone. All of his people dead, Dragonstone burned to the ground. And I want the wolves kneeling in front of my throne, accepting me as the one true queen. If they do that, I will let them live. If not, there is nothing I can do.”

“Alright”, Melisandre agreed. That was all she could ask, all she could do for them. As soon as Stannis was dead, they were going to understand. _They had to._ Still, there was something else she wanted to say. “You are going to keep Sansa safe, right?”

Cersei seemed genuinely surprised about the question, frowning for a moment. “Why are you asking?” she replied back, playing with a strand of golden hair. She was holding back.

Melisandre’s glass was still in her hands, her lips had never touched it. She turned it around, playing with it. “I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

The queen smiled. “Oh, she is safe in here, don’t worry.”

For a moment, everything was silent. Melisandre needed those seconds to understand, read Cersei’s expression. “You are going to use her as bait. Lure the Starks here, hope they bring Stannis. Make them attack the castle.” It was not a master plan, but also not too bad. Cersei did inherit some of the strategic thinking from her father. “And just as they attack, the second Lannister army is going to come from the back. Leaving them no way out.” The events played out in front of her eyes, blood mixing with the earth as hundreds were slain dead. It was a horrific event.

“Exactly”, Cersei replied in return. “You’re a clever girl.”

But pieces were missing, just slowly coming to her. Melisandre saw fire, creeping over the ground. Vampires burning to ash. Wolves howling. Somewhere beneath the castle, something was stirring. _Wildfire._ The tower was burning to the ground. A throne of ashes. She looked at Cersei, at the way her eyes shone in the dim light. “You’re going to burn them all.”

This time, Jaime Lannister interfered. “How do you know all of this?” he wanted to know, clearly quite aggressive. “Are you a mind reader?”

His sister, on the other hand, seemed rather intrigued at the thought. “I asked myself the same thing, assumed you just had a quick mind. But it’s more than that, is it not?” She was taking another sip of blood, more eager now.

Melisandre considered lying, for a moment. But Cersei Lannister seemed to be the person one did not want to lie to, and for her there was more at stake here. Jon’s safety, first of all. And that of his family, of course. “My transformation allowed me inside into quite a few things”, she therefore replied, as vague as somehow possible.

Cersei frowned. “I don’t understand.”

She sighed. “I am able to see the future, to some extend. But it is difficult, and I often can not tell whether things are really going to come true or not.”   
The queen looked over to her brother, who seemed equally interested by now. “So you can see what is going to happen?”

“Somehow”, Melisandre replied, still keeping things vague. She did not wish to go more into detail.

Cersei’s eyes were sparkling by now. “You have seen my victory, have you not? This is why you came tonight, despite knowing what it would cost you.” She made a short pause. “Despite knowing that this was a trap”, she finally concluded. “This is the reason behind it all.”   
She was right, obviously. Melisandre did not feel the need to say anything else. “So we are settled, then?” Suddenly, all she wanted was to leave. The room seemed terribly small, almost suffocating her.

The queen nodded slowly. “Alright.” She was eyeing Melisandre for a moment. “If you play your little games with me, I will make sure to let your husband pay for it. A lannister always pays her debts.”

Melisandre nodded. “I am not”, she simply said. _I only wish to make things better._ She never said it. Perhaps since she did not believe it herself.

But Cersei Lannister was not the enemy. Stannis was. And he always would be. No matter if the Starks knelt in front of him or not. He had done this to her, only him. Stannis was going to die, and she was going to ensure that he did not go easily. _She was going to raise hell._

“I want to see you tomorrow night”, Cersei interrupted her thoughts. “Talk about the strategy. And I want to see what you can do in a fight.”

Melisandre sighed. “Sure”, she muttered. “I’ll be there.”

“I hope so”, the queen commented, raising her glass to the lips. The blood left red stains on her lips.

Outside, lightning flashed across the sky. Thunder rolled. _The deal was sealed._ Melisandre turned around to take her leave, torn between feeling like she did the right thing and feeling like she had betrayed Jon.

But she had tried to stop him, told him everything she had known at that point. It had not been enough. He had not listened, and now it was too late. _Unbelievers never listened until it was too late._ He was running blind into his own destruction, she had seen it. The moment he had touched the first tarot card, it had flushed through her head like a film.

 _The lovers,_ he had picked. That was still odd to her, since she had been certain he was going to draw justice. This turn of events was still confusing to her, even though it might just be a coincidence. _But were there coincidences when it came to the future?_ She was not certain, and there was no one to ask.

At the end of the day, she was alone. The only one who knew how this war was going to end. And how much it would cost them, all of them.

 


End file.
